


one single thread of gold

by challaudaku



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: DOESNT EXIST, M/M, also the jack ch is now ch4, but mostly just albert and crutchie, cameos from jack and davey and race and jojo and henry, can we talk about how the crutchiealbert tag just..., im fine its fine, jack has moved up from just a cameo bc of chapter 3, jojo has moved up as well shoutout to ch2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/challaudaku/pseuds/challaudaku
Summary: And it’s weird, because Charlie becomes friends with Albert.It’s weird, because it takes a whole month for Charlie to realize that Albert’shisfriend. Albert isn’t in the Exes Club, not officially. He’s not part of theirfriend group.He’s just Charlie’s friend.or: bro lemme hold your hand totally platonically bro lemme look at you and have my heart racing totally as friends bro lemme love you but like as bros hey bro lets kiss but like as buddies bro
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Crutchie
Comments: 40
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rehearsal_Dweller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Parallel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557761) by [Rehearsal_Dweller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller). 



> okay, so, if you don't know [finn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller), you absolutely should. she is literally one of my favorite authors on here and she wrote the [near miss au](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735408) and it's such a gorgeous series. in one of the fics she offhandedly mentioned crutchie and albert being in a relationship and i fell in love with the idea and then my fingers slipped and i wrote this. i marked this as based off of [parallel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557761/chapters/59304034) because it mostly is (it starts during chapter 2 of that fic) and parallel is the starting point for the near miss au, the [near miss adjacent au](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757999/chapters/59860486), and [collision course](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489789/chapters/61833772) and while i marked it as based off of parallel it follows collision course specifically. but like... read nmau, nmaau, and cc. read them all.  
> another note: i used charlie instead of crutchie because it's from his pov and if i was him i wouldn't think of myself as crutchie. so just be aware of that  
> also albert's shitty movie taste is taken from my friend jason and those are his favorite movies and i hate him for it. jason if you happen to come across this, i am mortified and please don't mention it. love you!  
> anyway. i hope you enjoy!!! :)

Of all people, Albert goes to Charlie after he breaks up with Jack.

“Does he hate me?” Albert asks, hanging upside down on Jack's bed in their tiny dorm room. It's a position that's not _new_ for Albert to be in, but it’s new that Jack _isn’t_ with him. 

Albert’s come over dozens of times without Jack there, but his and Charlie’s conversations have consisted of “Is Jack here?” “Not right now.” “Oh. Good to see you, Charlie.” It’s what led to Albert and Jack breaking up in the first place. Relationships tend not to work out if you hardly see each other.

This time, though, Albert had come over and Charlie had said “Jack’s not here” out of instinct, and Albert had frowned deeper and said “Can I actually talk to you?”. 

“I doubt it,” Charlie says, frowning down at Albert, whose red hair is flopping down and touching the carpet. “Seeing as you’re still friends with him.”

It’s not _new_ for Charlie to be the person comforting both sides of Jack's relationships. He spent a long time comforting Race and then comforting Jack also. He was the one who was sitting in between Jack and Buttons when they had stopped talking for two terrible weeks. He was there for Romeo when Romeo admitted that he didn’t want to do the whole long-distance thing during college. 

Plus, he was technically there for _himself_ , both times.

“I know, but —” Albert groans and falls off of the bed with absolutely no grace, landing on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I don't know,” Albert says, blinking up, giving a half-second glance at Charlie before staring up at the ceiling again. “I've never _done_ this before.”

“‘This’?” Charlie asks for clarification, as Albert gets up and places himself on Charlie’s bed instead. He sits on the opposite end of the bed so they’re facing each other and stretches his legs out. There’s not really room for the two of them to stretch out on Charlie’s smaller-than-a-twin-sized bed, so their legs bump into each other. Charlie finds himself not minding the contact. 

“Dating someone,” Albert says, leaning his head back so it hits a picture on the wall of Jack, Race, and Charlie at the beginning of their freshman year.

“You've never dated someone before?” Charlie says, even though he knows full well he can't really judge. His own dating list is two lines long — three, if both times with Jack count separately. Still, he had pegged Albert as the type of guy to date in high school.

Albert shrugs, looking in Charlie’s direction, but not quite making eye contact with Charlie, like he’s embarrassed to admit that. “No one I actually _cared_ about romantically,” he says, giving another little shrug. “I had a huge breakdown and only realized I was gay near the end of last year, so no high school boyfriends here.”

The sentence sits between them for a second, before Albert blinks, maybe realizing that he’s never been that deep with Charlie ever.

“I’ve certainly never broken up with anyone and then stayed friends with them afterward,” he adds, his tone much lighter. He grins over at Charlie because his smile seems to never be a real smile, instead being a toothy grin that borders on a smirk. Charlie realizes that Albert’s dimples don’t show up as he smiles. Charlie’s heard about Albert’s dimples on end from Jack.

He knows Albert’s faking a smile.

“I’ve done it twice,” Charlie says, smiling back at Albert anyway. One thing that Charlie thinks he’s pretty good at — besides for fitting suitcases perfectly into cars — is picking up on _what_ type of friend someone needs. Right now, he thinks that Albert doesn’t need to be serious. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be more openly broken up about his split from Jack.

Today, though, he’ll help Albert smile through it. _Genuinely_ smile.

… 

And it’s weird, because Charlie becomes friends with Albert. 

Albert’s an almost-constant presence in Charlie and Jack’s dorm room, without even asking Charlie. Charlie, though, doesn’t really mind it. He likes the way Albert will nod along like he knows what’s happening whenever Charlie is working out a problem out loud. He likes the way Albert will invade his personal space and sit on his small bed and dig his toes into Charlie’s legs. He likes that they don’t necessarily have to be talking all the time, but that they’re _comfortable_ with each other. They just click.

They were friends before, but the vague sense of friends where you have someone in common, but it’s not _quite_ being actual friends with each other. Charlie’s become friends with plenty of Jack’s exes like that. And then, later, he’s become real friends with them through the Exes Club.

It’s weird, because it takes a whole month for Charlie to realize that Albert’s _his_ friend. Albert isn’t in the Exes Club, not officially. He’s not part of their _friend group_.

He’s just Charlie’s friend.

“Do you want to be in the Exes Club?” Charlie asks, his mouth half full of pizza as he brandishes the rest of his slice at Albert.

He half-regrets the sentence as soon as it comes out of his mouth. A part of him feels sort of guilty for regretting it, because Albert is out with Charlie _and_ Jack right now, and Albert’s met the rest of their friends, and Albert isn’t just _his_ friend. Albert _should_ be in the Exes Club. He fits in with them perfectly. Rationally, Charlie knows that.

At the same time, there’s a small part of Charlie that doesn’t particularly want to share Albert. He has no idea what that part of himself is thinking, honestly. He just wants to hold Albert close and not let anyone else be friends with him.

He’s being selfish.

He tries to shove it down, and laughs when Albert asks _what_ the Exes Club is, a brilliantly confused expression on his face.

… 

Jack’s been Charlie’s best friend for practically their entire life. Most of Charlie’s memories include Jack. Charlie has other friends, of course he does. _Especially_ in college. They’re in different majors — of course they had to branch out a little. Plus, their schedules don’t really line up so well, and they see each other far less than they did in high school despite _living_ together. 

Still, Charlie’s never had another _best_ friend. He hasn’t needed or wanted one.

Albert, he’s realizing as they enter their second year of college, is becoming his best friend. 

That’s not to say Jack isn’t his best friend — he still is, it’s just that Charlie has two best friends now. He thinks.

It’s been a weird summer, mostly because no one would _mention_ that everything’s all weird. Something _changed_ about Spot and Race, Charlie thinks — besides for the obvious change of them dating — but neither of them mentioned it, so nobody mentioned it, and they just spent the summer in an unacknowledged air of weirdness.

Or maybe Charlie’s overthinking it.

Still, it was nice to be able to text Albert random, stupid things, like rapid arguments about whether _Harry Potter_ is good or not (Charlie thinks it’s overrated. Albert thinks it’s genius.) or sending each other increasingly nauseating Starbucks orders that cost way too much money to actually be worth it but that they consistently bought anyway. It was nice to have that distraction.

It’ll be even nicer to get to see him in person, which is why Charlie is impatiently tapping his foot, wishing Jack would walk a _little_ bit faster from his mother’s front door.

And then they’re off to their second year of college.

… 

“I’m worried about Jack,” Charlie admits, Albert’s head on his shoulder as they sit on Charlie’s bed. They’ve been not talking up until now, just staring at Jack’s empty bed. It’s not like Charlie has anyone else to admit that to, no one who knows what he’s really talking about.

Albert, in lieu of a response, grabs Charlie’s hand and squeezes it tight.

… 

“I think I want to move here,” Albert says, digging his toes into Charlie’s leg. They’re sitting on Charlie’s bed, because Albert is a staple of Charlie and Jack’s dorm room, always, even in their third year of college.

“I think our RA would find out three people are living here,” Charlie says, glancing over at Albert. He can’t help but take in the way a piece of hair falls onto Albert’s forehead. A strong urge overcomes him to push it back, but leaves his hands where they are.

“Not _here_ here,” Albert says, digging his toes in further. 

Charlie takes a second to take in the feel before replying, “Gee, thanks, that clears it up a lot.”

Albert retracts his toes to kick Charlie’s leg. Charlie lets out a soft _oof_ , before looking over at Albert with a grin. “You’re a little crap, you know that, right?” Albert says, resuming his toe-digging.

“It’s all from you, babe,” Charlie replies easily, patting Albert’s leg. Albert tries to scowl at Charlie, but he breaks quickly into a grin instead, dimples forming and all.

“I mean move to _Chicago_ ,” Albert says, continuing his original point. “I mean, Race and I have been talking about opening a dance studio together, and it’d majorly suck if it just ends up being all talk. You’re staying here, right?” Albert asks, and Charlie’s not sure why whether or not he stays in Chicago would affect Albert staying here.

“Yeah, almost definitely,” Charlie says, because he’s not _stupid_. He knows if he gets a golden opportunity in another city, he should take it, but at the same time, he’s lived in Chicago his entire life. He doesn’t particularly like the idea of moving away from his family. He’d move out of Bryan’s house, of course, but he likes the idea of being a short car ride away. 

And if Albert moves to Chicago permanently, and Charlie gets to keep both of his best friends close by (because he doesn’t think Jack would move), that’s another bonus.

“Holy fuck,” Charlie breathes out, as Albert shifts his body around to lay his head across Charlie’s lap.

“Language, Chuck,” Albert says. Charlie smacks him in the arm.

“You’re an adult. You can take cursing,” he tells him, and Albert shrugs, grabbing the hand that hit him and running his fingers over Charlie’s knuckles. “It’s just — we have to think about our _futures_ now. Like holy fuck.”

“ _Language_ ,” Albert rebukes again, squeezing Charlie’s fingers. It’s the most amusing thing about Albert, in Charlie’s opinion, the fact that Albert legitimately _doesn’t_ like cursing. It makes it so easy and so much fun to annoy him. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, and Charlie focuses in on the feel of Albert’s fingers on his hand.

“Everything’s going to work out, though,” Albert says, quiet and sincere.

“You think?” Charlie says, moving his free hand to comb through Albert’s hair.

“I know,” Albert replies, and Charlie believes him, utterly and totally.

… 

“Spot and Race are getting married,” Charlie says conversationally, as Albert stretches out on his dorm room floor.

“I heard,” Albert says, grabbing his foot with both hands and bending his head down. Charlie’s quads ache just looking at him. “You do know I’m friends with them, right? With Race, specifically. I _do_ talk to him. On occasion. When he’s not annoying.”

“ _When_ do you talk to him, then?” Charlie asks, and Albert grins up at him, dimples appearing in his cheeks. Charlie then doesn’t say anything else. He’s not sure why he brought it up in the first place, but there was just _something_ pushing him to say something about it to Albert, to talk about their friends getting _married_ with him.

The push still feels like it’s there.

… 

It takes four years of college, but Charlie gets a boyfriend. Tommy is a special education major, and he’s a little bit of an idiot in the sweetest ways, and Charlie sort of really likes him. He likes the way Tommy still, at twenty-two years old, cannot tell his rights from his lefts. He likes the way Tommy smells like Irish Spring and the way Tommy hugs with his whole body.

“Hey, your boyfriend doesn’t mind us being like… us, does he?” Albert asks one night, as he lays across Charlie’s bed, his head in Charlie’s lap while he reads a book. Charlie, whose fingers had been running through Albert’s hair as he tries to finish the homework open on his computer next to them, pauses.

“No?” Charlie says, because he’s not really sure what Albert _means_. Tommy hasn’t met Albert yet, but even if they do meet, Charlie can’t imagine why Tommy would mind their friendship.

Albert makes a little sound in his throat, but he settles more into Charlie’s lap and returns to reading. Charlie slowly starts to move his hand through Albert’s hair again, but there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He breaks up with Tommy a couple of weeks later, and he doesn’t even really know why he’s doing it. He doesn’t know why he’s putting himself through the heartbreak. 

But he’s thinking of Albert, and he’s thinking of Albert’s head on his lap and his fingers in Albert’s hair and he feels a seed of guilt start to grow in his stomach when he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want _that_ with Tommy, and what kind of person does that make him?

Albert hugs him on Charlie’s bed, afterwards, and Charlie doesn’t cry, but he lets the guilt overtake him as he thinks about how Albert holding him feels more right then when Tommy had.

… 

“ _I’m a dancer_!” Albert says, finding Charlie almost right as the arts graduates get out. He grabs Charlie’s hand and grins at him, practically bouncing up and down.

“You’ve been dancing since you were three, no sh — crap,” Charlie corrects at Albert giving him a stern look. He’ll let him have this one, just for today. The grin that returns to Albert’s face is infectious, and Charlie grins back at Albert, and he’s so _happy_ for his best friend. Sitting through graduation is boring, but _this_ , Albert’s wide grin, this is worth it.

“Let’s go find Jack,” Albert says, tugging at Charlie’s arm and starting to wade through the crowd of people. “I need a picture with that dumbass.”

Charlie lets himself be pulled along.

… 

On their last day of college, Albert helps Charlie and Jack pack everything into boxes.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Albert says, holding the box with Charlie’s pants as the three of them stare at the empty room. 

“Al, you never lived here,” Jack points out, even though they all know he practically did, all throughout college.

Albert shrugs in response. “I’ll still miss annoying you guys all the time. It’s different when I have to actually _go_ somewhere to do it, instead of just being on campus.”

“True,” Charlie says. It feels like the end of an era, and Charlie realizes that it _is._

But still, once they get everything into Jack’s car, Albert squeezes Charlie’s hand quickly and says, “see you later,” and some things aren’t going to change.

… 

Charlie goes from stumbling-through-college Charlie to almost-real-adult Charlie pretty quick. He even has a real life job to complete it all. The good part of that is that being almost-real-adult comes with things like rent and bills and food and gas and a million other expenses Charlie’s never thought of, so it’s nice to have a real job to pay for it all, especially when he’s still so fresh out of college.

The bad part of it is that him becoming an almost-real-adult means that all of his _friends_ have, too.

He still sees Jack all the time. It’s one of the hazards of living together, and he’s thankful to see his best friend regularly. He’s thankful they’re still _friends_ , honestly, when it comes down to it, because how many people can say they’re still friends with their childhood best friend after college?

Despite that, there’s a slight ache in Charlie’s chest. He misses the constant presence of Albert being in his room, draping himself all over Charlie’s bed. He’ll sometimes look up, ready to tell Albert something, and then remember that _they’re not in college anymore_. Albert isn’t constantly _there_.

He sees Albert at _least_ twice a week, but there’s still that ache at missing him.

… 

Charlie has spent weeks hearing about Race and Albert trying to open their dance studio, but their reports to him are wildly different. Race is complaining about the technicalities of it all, about how deciding on a building is kicking his ass, about how _is it even worth it, Crutch, should I have another life crisis and divorce Sean and change my life plan and move to Wisconsin._ Albert, on the other hand, is complaining about the son of their potential landlord — or, more correctly, about how cute he is.

Charlie thinks it cute that his friend is pining over some guy, but it also starts to bug him after approximately five seconds for some reason.

“Just ask him out, Albie,” Charlie snaps, and he has no idea why he’s feeling so irritated at it. Albert doesn’t seem to notice Charlie’s tone, though, as he groans and tries to furrow his head further into Charlie’s lap.

“Maybe,” Albert says, all muffled.

And so Albert gets a boyfriend, JoJo. They date for three weeks before Albert invites Charlie to go out with them.

“You want me to third wheel you and your boyfriend?” Charlie deadpans, watching Albert struggle to make a grilled cheese.

“Not _third wheel_ ,” Albert says, attempting to pick up the sandwich from the pan with his bare hand and retracting it quickly with a sharp wince. “Just like… meet him,” he says, running his hand over cold water. Charlie glances over to the pan, and watches the sandwich burn for a second, before looking back at Albert.

“But, like, if it’s just _me_ meeting him, that’s third wheeling,” Charlie points out as Albert frowns down at his now-burnt sandwich. “We could introduce him to the whole Exes Club if you want people to meet him.”

“I don’t want _people_ to meet him,” Albert says, rolling his eyes the tiniest bit as he flicks off the fire and sits down besides Charlie instead. “I want _you_ to meet him.”

“Why?” Charlie asks. He supposes that, if he thinks about it, he’s touched at Albert wanting him to meet his boyfriend.

At the same time, it causes a weird tickling feeling in his throat, the thought of meeting Albert’s boyfriend.

“You’re my best friend, Char,” Albert says, and the nickname doesn’t help the tickling feeling. It’s new, and for some reason, it feels like he’s swallowed a whole bunch of pop rocks. “Of course I want you to meet my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, because how is he supposed to say anything else with Albert looking at him with wide brown eyes and a _serious_ look for once with no hint of any grin?

He just doesn’t understand why it makes him feel so _weird_.

… 

JoJo is nice.

He’s nice, and he smiles so widely at Albert, and he doesn’t mind when Albert grabs Charlie’s hand, also, to lead the two of them through the art museum he’s brought them too.

 _And_ JoJo likes architecture, and he doesn’t mind Charlie rambling about the art of _how_ the building was made is brilliant, not just the art pieces inside of it. JoJo even rambles _with_ him and Charlie has had no friends outside of work who talk architecture with him.

Charlie really wants to dislike JoJo. He doesn’t know why — he should be happy Albert’s found such a good guy — but he just _really_ wants to. He can’t make himself dislike him.

The weird feeling lingers.

… 

Charlie’s barista at Starbucks writes his number on the side of the cup with a little heart. Charlie has no intention of texting the guy, but he also doesn’t throw the cup away immediately and instead keeps it on his desk.

His lunch break lines up with Albert’s on Wednesdays, so that’s the day, every week, without fail, they both get out of their respective workplaces and grab lunch together.

“I’ve never dated anyone for an entire year before,” Albert says, dragging his fork through his salad without picking up any food. He’s been stressing about his first anniversary with JoJo for the past two weeks, but now it’s actually coming up. In just three days, Charlie knows. “I have no idea what to do for an anniversary.”

“I don’t know,” Charlie replies, not feeling very hungry himself as that familiar stone settles in his stomach at the thought of Albert and JoJo. He’s also realizing that _he’s_ never dated anyone for an entire year before. The majority of him knows that it doesn’t really matter that he hasn’t, that the right person will come along eventually, that there’s no need to rush into something — all that rhetoric he used to spout at Jack.

But there’s a small part of him that feels like Albert’s found his person, and he’s _jealous_. He wants that, he thinks, really badly.

Maybe that’s why he feels so shitty when he thinks about Albert and JoJo.

“What would you want done, Char?” Albert asks, kicking Charlie’s leg from under the table. Charlie halfheartedly kicks him back and then swallows hard. 

“I have no clue,” Charlie replies, and he stares over at Albert, who’s staring down at his salad, and thinks about what he would want if _he_ was the one dating Albert. And then his brain thinks about if he was dating Albert, full stop.

Charlie’s not hungry anymore.

When he goes back to his office, he texts the number on his cup.

… 

_Cute barista: oh my god I’ve never done that before_

_Cute barista: I didn’t actually expect it to work_

_Cute barista: I just thought you were really cute so I wanted to take a leap_

_Cute barista: I’m Henry, by the way_

_Me: hahah I thought you were cute too! So… hi!_

_Cute Henry: so… do you want to go on a date sometime?_

… 

Albert ropes Charlie into helping him move in with JoJo. Charlie agrees, albeit reluctantly, because even though he _has a boyfriend now and he loves him,_ seeing Albert and JoJo still gives him a weird feeling.

It’s probably just how domestic they are, Charlie thinks, as he puts a box of Albert’s shoes in their bedroom and glances at the two of them grinning stupidly at each other, pulling shirts out of a box and laying them out. He and Henry aren’t at that point in their relationship, yet. Charlie just needs to be patient, because he likes Henry, a lot. He loves him.

“Are you going to be over here as much as I’m at yours?” Albert asks ten minutes later, as they bring in Albert’s final box. JoJo’s apartment — or, JoJo and Albert’s apartment, now — is much closer to Albert and Race’s studio and to Jack and Charlie’s apartment, instead of a thirty minute bus ride to Albert’s old apartment. Charlie doesn’t have any real reason to _not_ invade Albert’s home like Albert invades his.

Charlie laughs, but at the same time, he doesn’t really plan on visiting much. He wants to avoid that sinking feeling as much as possible.

… 

Being with Henry gives Charlie a light, airy feeling. He laughs easily with him, and he loves the way they balance each other out. Plus, Henry’s met Jack, and if someone has the Jack Seal of Approval, Charlie loves them automatically.

“Okay, try this one out,” Henry says, sliding a sandwich onto the plate in front of Charlie. “I think it’s pretty good, but I’m biased.”

“I think I’m technically biased also,” Charlie points out, inspecting the sandwich. Henry, Charlie had found out within ten minutes of their first date, is in culinary school. One day, he wants to open his own restaurant. For now, though, he’s slogging through culinary school and working at Starbucks to make rent. He likes that he’s still making some type of food, Henry had said. 

Henry will eat any food at least once, before deciding whether or not he likes it. Charlie, on the other hand, is a horribly picky eater. From the moment Henry learned that, he had made it his mission to broaden Charlie’s pallet, but in a way Charlie will _actually_ like.

“There’s nothing bad in it,” Henry says, as Charlie opens it up to look at its contents.

“You don’t think anything is bad,” Charlie points out, sticking his tongue out at Henry. Henry laughs, light and clear, and a fuzzy feeling fills Charlie up. 

There’s a tomato in the sandwich, which Charlie is unsure about, but he can handle tomatoes most of the time. Deciding to trust his boyfriend’s cooking, he closes the sandwich again and takes a bite.

“Hm,” Charlie says, his mouth full of bread and tomato and cheese and some green stuff Charlie doesn’t really want to ask about because he knows he’ll hate it as soon as he finds out what it is. “It’s alright.”

Henry gives him another clear laugh, and kisses his cheek, and Charlie is genuinely happy.

… 

“Albert’s an asshole,” Charlie says, flopping down onto Henry’s couch and putting his head onto his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“You say that like every other sentence,” Henry says, giving a soft chuckle and kissing Charlie’s head. “I would think you hate him if I didn’t know you two were best friends.”

“I love him too much to hate him,” Charlie admits, turning his head to press a kiss to Henry’s shoulder. “Otherwise I would.”

Henry laughs and Charlie lets his mind stray to thoughts of Albert.

… 

“We should go on a double date,” Albert says, his legs stretched out Charlie’s lap.

“With who?” Charlie asks, because he’s not really thinking about Albert’s words, and instead thinking about Albert’s legs. Albert has a lot of _leg_ and they’re muscly and he’s wearing shorts and it’s distracting.

“With our boyfriends?” Albert says, slowly, and when Charlie looks over at him, he looks slightly concerned. Charlie blinks, and he lets his brain catch up for a second.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Charlie says, a bit delayed. He’s also a bit hesitant of it all, because he’s been dating Henry for almost an entire year, longer than he’s ever dated anyone else, and he still hasn’t introduced him to Albert. Henry’s met Jack plenty of times. He’s met Bryan, even, and he’s come to three family gatherings so far.

And yet, Charlie hasn’t been able to make himself introduce him to Albert.

Still, he knows that it’d be pretty shitty of him to never introduce his best friend to his boyfriend, so they pick a couple of dates that work for them and promise to talk to their respective boyfriends about it.

And then, a week later, Charlie is sitting besides Henry and across from Albert and JoJo and he can’t remember ever feeling more stressed. 

“You’re Albert?” Henry asks, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend really well. Charlie loves it, he does, but he doesn’t know why his heart is beating so fast. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, really?” Albert says, raising his eyebrows high and looking over at Charlie. Charlie makes himself look away from Albert, because he knows full well that he’s told Albert almost nothing about Henry. On the other hand, Charlie can’t shut up about Albert. 

In all fairness, though, he’s known Albert for a lot longer than Henry. That’s all.

“All bad things,” Charlie jokes, trying to force normalcy. Albert lets out a little laugh, and Charlie grabs Henry’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

His eyes can’t help but stray over to Albert over the course of the entire meal, and the moment he gets out of there and it’s just him and Henry again, Charlie feels like there’s a weight off his chest.

“They were nice,” Henry says, as they walk to Charlie’s car. Charlie faintly nods, and he shifts his hand in Henry’s in a vain attempt to make it feel more natural.

… 

Henry breaks up with him right before their would-be anniversary. 

“You just seem… distracted,” Henry says, and there’s a weird prickly feeling behind Charlie’s eyes. He blinks.

“Distracted?” Charlie blinks again and decides to avoid Henry’s eyes and look down at their laps, where Henry is holding both of Charlie’s hands. Charlie’s mind flashes, for a single moment, to holding Albert’s hand and _God_ , he wants to stop the oncoming heartbreak and go to Albert’s and talk about something mind-numbing and dumb. He’d even let Albert force him to watch all eight _Harry Potter_ movies if he just _didn’t have to be here_.

“I just don’t think you really want to date right now,” Henry explains, giving Charlie’s hand a little squeeze. “Not deep down.”

Charlie’s not really sure what to reply. Henry says “I’m sorry,” and he says “I love you,” and they’re both adults, so they say they’ll still be friends, but Charlie leaves in a daze and he feels like they won’t be.

Somehow, he manages to get home, and Jack is there.

“Charlie,” Jack says right away, and Charlie is still half-dazed, but he lets Jack pull him into a tight hug and he lets himself be led to their couch and he lets himself be held by Jack as tears slowly start to fall from his eyes. 

He tries not to let himself think about how he's not really sure if he’s _that_ upset over his relationship with Henry ending.

And he tries to not let himself think about how he really, desperately wants to hug Albert right now.

… 

Albert and JoJo break up after just over three years. It’s not like Charlie’s _happy_ about it, because it’s difficult to be happy about much when they’re sitting on Charlie’s bed and he’s holding his best friend as he sobs on Charlie’s chest. At the same time, there’s this weird feeling in his chest that feels like _relief_. He’s never going to have to have that weird weight on his chest when he sees the two of them.

“I love you, Char,” Albert says, his voice thick with tears.

“I love you, too, Albie,” Charlie replies, running his hand through Albert’s hair and pressing a light kiss to the top of his head.

Charlie holds Albert through it, and he thinks about how he’d gladly do this for the rest of his life.

… 

It’s not like Charlie’s rent is drowning him. He has a decent job, and he doesn’t particularly struggle with his expenses. He’s thankful that he’s able to pay for everything, even once Jack moves out.

Still, he misses having a roommate. It'd be _helpful_ to have someone to split the rent with, just for a little extra money. Plus, he misses the space Jack takes up. He had never really noticed it when Jack was actually _there_ , but now that it’s empty… 

“Where are you even living nowadays?” he asks Albert as they sit on a park bench and drink too-sugary and too-expensive coffees. He feels slightly bad as he’s asking it, because he should’ve asked it when Albert and JoJo had initially broken up. He had known Albert stayed with Race and Spot for a bit — refusing Charlie and Jack’s insistence to stay over with them — but then Charlie got sidetracked for a while, helping Jack move out and look into adoption.

“I’m in a studio on West Howard,” Albert says, pulling his straw out of his cup and flicking whipped cream onto the sidewalk. “It’s tiny, so I haven’t really had people over.”

“Hm,” Charlie says, and then he hesitates before asking his next question, because once he asks it, he can’t take it back. “You wanna move in with me?” he asks, and he makes himself look at Albert to gauge his reaction.

“ _Charlie_ ,” Albert says, putting his straw back into his cup and putting a hand over his heart dramatically. “I usually require at _least_ five dates before I can say yes to that question.”

“I hate you,” Charlie says, as his heart does a weird little somersault. He rolls his eyes, and he wants to look away for the full dramatic effect, but he can’t make himself look away from Albert. “Offer rescinded.” 

Albert lets out a laugh and they both know he’s not being serious.

… 

A week later, Albert is fully moved into Jack’s old bedroom, and then Albert and Charlie are sitting on the couch, with Albert digging his toes into Charlie’s leg.

“Feels like college again, huh, Char?” Albert says, and Charlie thinks that _yeah_ , it sort of is, because the last time Charlie’s seen Albert smile that wide must’ve been in college. He has a strong urge to poke his dimples.

“Things were different then. Now you _finally_ live with me,” Charlie says, grinning right back as he wills his heartbeat to even out a little bit. “All officially and everything, instead of just annoying me and Jack.”

“Ah, you love me,” Albert says, digging his toes a little bit deeper.

“Yeah,” Charlie replies, genuine. Albert gives him a little sideways smile at that, tilting his head and digging his toes in more.

Charlie’s really glad he’s living with his best friend. He wouldn’t want things any other way.

… 

They see each other every single night, but Charlie and Albert still have their weekly lunches together. An addition to their week becomes Saturday night movie nights, because Charlie is _appalled_ at the amount of movies Albert hasn’t seen.

“You haven’t seen _Hercules_?” Charlie asks, as _I Won’t Say I’m In Love_ plays from Charlie’s phone as they make dinner together.

“No?” Albert says, and Charlie can’t stop gaping at him. He’s not sure how he became friends with someone so uncultured — and this is coming _after_ Charlie had found out Albert’s never seen _Mulan_.

“What movies _have_ you seen?” Charlie asks, but he’s not sure if he wants to know the answer. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“It’s a toss up,” Albert says, and Charlie waits, because he’s genuinely scared for what the choices are. “Between _Step Brothers_ and _Moneyball_.”

Charlie is tempted to end a nine-year-friendship.

He doesn’t do that. Instead, twenty minutes later, they’re on their couch, and Albert’s in his favorite position of absolutely smothering Charlie. Charlie breathes in Albert and he spends most of _Hercules_ focusing on running his fingers through Albert’s hair instead of focusing on the plot.

… 

Albert gets a new boyfriend. His name is Oscar and something about him rubs Charlie the wrong way, from the first moment they meet. There’s a familiar feeling that settles in his chest when Albert says that he’s going out with Oscar, and Charlie’s finding that it doesn’t feel any less weird.

When Oscar and Albert break up after three short months, Albert doesn’t seem that torn up about it. Charlie certainly isn’t upset.

“I think I realized I liked someone else,” Albert replies, facing away from Charlie in their small kitchen, when Charlie points out that he seems pretty okay. Charlie doesn’t miss the way his body slightly tenses up.

He has no idea what that’s about. 

He realizes, pretty quickly, that the fact that Albert is single makes him feel happier than he’s felt in a while. Since Oscar and Albert started dating, probably. The fact that Albert likes someone else makes him less happy, but Charlie will get over it.

As long as Albert’s happy.

… 

It takes Charlie another two weeks to realize it. It’s sort of ridiculous, because once he starts to realize it, everything hits him all at once. It’s like he’s looking at the last nine years with a pair of glasses on.

He likes Albert.

He fucking likes Albert.

And he has for — for a long time, he thinks.

Shit.

… 

They still have their movie night the next night.

Albert lays his head on Charlie’s shoulder and grabs his hand as the opening scene to _Toy Story_ plays. From their positions, Charlie’s able to turn his head so that his nose is in Albert’s hair and he can breathe in the scent of Albert’s flowery shampoo.

And, for just a second, Charlie’s able to pretend that they’re dating, and this is a date night and —

Charlie pulls his hand away from Albert.

… 

_Albie!: hey where do you want to go to lunch_

_Albie!: i’m sort of desperately craving pizza hut but i KNOWWW my stomach is not going to thank me for that later_

_Albie!: so please be my self control and choose somewhere_

_Albie!: somewhere without dairy because i still have an afternoon class today_

_Albie!: please and thank you_

_Albie!: love you kisses_

_Me: actually, I’m caught up at work at the moment_

_Me: I don’t think I’ll be able to go out today_

_Albie!: but it’s wednesday :(_

_Albie!: char don’t work through your lunch break_

_Albie!: you deserve it_

_Albie!: okay you’re not replying so i guess you’re pretty busy_

_Albie!: i’ll see you at home i guess_

Charlie flips his phone over and stares at his blank computer screen. For once, he feels like having no projects to work on is actually a curse. He wonders if David’s doing anything for lunch.

… 

Albert digs his toes into Charlie’s leg as Charlie tries to read. His brain, however, would much rather focus on the feeling of Albert’s toes instead of the words on the page.

“Can you not do that?” Charlie asks, looking over at Albert, his voice a little weak.

Albert looks confused for a second, and maybe a little angry, but then he brings his legs up to his chest and he looks more upset than anything else.

… 

“Are you mad at me?” Albert asks, and Charlie takes a second before looking up from his computer and looking to the other end of the couch, where Albert’s sitting.

“No,” Charlie says, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Why?”

“Because —” Albert says, frowning at Charlie and cocking his head for a second. Whatever he was going to say, he seems to decide better of it. “Whatever,” Albert says, throwing his hands up, standing up, and walking out of their living room.

Charlie wants to call after Albert, to get up and follow him, to tell him that it’s not _him_ , but it’s Charlie’s own brain, and that he thinks that he’s in love with Albert — 

Charlie lets him go. 

… 

“How do you do the whole single thing?” Charlie asks Jack as they eat an almost-not-burned dinner at Jack’s apartment. They had decided to get together after Sawyer had gone to bed so it could be “just the two of us, Crutch, just like the old days”. Charlie had pointed out that they lived together less than a year ago. Jack had insisted.

“Why?” Jack asks slowly, raising an eyebrow. Charlie wills it not to happen, but a grin spreads across Jack’s face anyway. “Is there someone in particular that’s making you want to be single?”

Charlie is almost thirty years old, but it’s not too old to kick Jack hard underneath the table.

“ _No_ ,” he lies, and his heart pangs with the lie. He’d rather endure a thousand years of Jack’s slightly burnt cooking than admit that he has a crush on _Albert_.

“You have a crush,” Jack accuses, pointing his fork at Charlie.

“Sure, Jack,” Charlie says, rolling his eyes while his stomach does an impressive series of gymnastics while his mind thinks of red hair and long limbs. Shouldn’t they be too old to use the word “crush”? They should really move past that, honestly. “I’m just bad at dating, and I want to be fine being single. _You’re_ fine being single.”

“And it took a long ass time to be fine,” Jack says, and Charlie can see the honesty in his eyes. “You’re not bad at dating, Chuck. I speak from experience.”

“Gee whiz,” Charlie says flatly. “I’m so glad my fifteen-year-old self still holds up, even now.”

“Charlie,” Jack says, just his name. Charlie forces a laugh, but his stomach is still churning. He knows it’s a weird role reversal, him making self-deprecating jokes and Jack rebuking him for it, but it’s easier to make up a problem than to tell Jack his real one. 

“Well,” Charlie says with a shrug and sigh. He can at least tell Jack a _little_ bit of his issue: he can’t _get the words out_ that he likes Albert. That’s the main problem, isn’t it? “When I'm with a boy I like, it's hard for me to say anything cool, or, or witty. Or at all. I— I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away.”

“I’d be swept off of my feet,” Jack says and Charlie frowns. He supposes he _could_ just outright ask Jack. Jack’s the one, out of the two of them, that actually managed to date Albert before. He probably has some idea of how to ask _Albert_ out. 

Albert from ten years ago, sure, but still.

Charlie opens his mouth, and he wants to tell Jack his problem, but he can’t get the words out.

He feels like, by this point, he’s never going to be able to get the words out.

… 

It’s raining.

It’s nothing new, but Charlie can’t remember the last time it poured _this_ hard. Thunder claps, and Charlie’s trying to focus on the show he’s playing on his laptop, but his eyes can’t help but wander over to the opposite end of the couch.

Albert’s sitting there, clutching a book with both hands, his jaw visibly clenched tight. Charlie wants to break the silence between them, but it’s his fault it’s there in the first place, isn’t it? He’s the one who’s pulled away from Albert, not the other way around. Albert has every right to look as pissed as he does right now.

There’s another thunderclap and Charlie can see Albert flinch at it. His knuckles are almost white around his book.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asks, cutting sharply through their thick silence.

“Fine,” Albert says shortly.

There’s a third boom of thunder, and Albert jumps in his seat. He doesn’t seem fine.

“Are you sure?” Charlie asks, crossing the couch quickly, forgetting about his show. Albert glances at Charlie for a second before averting his eyes, staring hard at his book.

“I’m fine,” Albert insists. Charlie can tell he’s lying through his teeth. “I just don’t like storms, that’s all.”

Charlie exhales hard, and then he takes one of Albert’s hands in his own. Within a second, Albert pulls his hand back and —

And Charlie wonders if Albert felt as confused and hurt as Charlie does now. Probably.

“Al,” Charlie says, and he’s not sure what else to say. _I’m sorry, I’m in love with you and I’m trying not to be, but it’s not working?_ That’s a hell of a confession, Charlie thinks.

“Don’t,” Albert says, closing his book and putting it to the side. He stands up and looks at Charlie, a puzzled expression on his face that’s wiped away and replaced with a frown. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he stays quiet. 

“ _Albert_ ,” Charlie says, getting up as well. He opens his mouth to say _something_ because _fuck_ , he misses his best friend, but before he gets any words out, everything goes black.

“Fuck,” Albert says, his voice sounding breathy. Charlie faintly registers that it’s the first time he’s heard Albert curse in the ten years he’s known him. He can hear Albert breathing hard, and once his eyes adjust a little to the darkness, he can see his silhouette in front of him.

Charlie’s hand finds Albert’s in the dark, and this time Albert lets him hold it, giving it a little squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie breathes out, stepping closer to Albert. “I’ve been a jerk,” he says and Albert squeezes his hand again.

“Yeah,” Albert says, letting out a breathy little laugh. “I’m sure you had a good reason?”

“I’ve just been dealing with some crap,” Charlie says, and it’s a bullshit excuse, but he knows if he’s pressed _at all_ , everything’s going to unravel. He’s not sure he’s quite ready for that.

“It’s just —” Albert says, tugging at Charlie’s arm and urging him closer to Albert. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”

“I don’t want to lose that either,” Charlie replies, something thick in his throat.

And isn’t that the problem of it all? He’s trying so hard to not lose his friendship with Albert that he’s… losing it.

Fuck. He wishes this wasn’t so _hard_. He wishes he could just turn off the switch in his brain that likes Albert. He wishes he could go back to before he had realized that he liked him at all.

“You won’t,” Albert says, and the sentence lingers in the air for a moment. He says it like it’s that simple, but Charlie’s pretty sure it’s anything but. He says it like it’s a promise.

Charlie wishes he could see Albert’s face right now. 

“C’mere,” Charlie says, sinking down to the floor and tugging Albert’s arm along with him. Albert lets go of his hand, but Charlie can tell that he’s still next to Charlie, laying on his back on their carpet floor.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Charlie says, trying to ignore that their bodies are so close, laying on the ground like this. Charlie rolls onto his side so they’re facing each other, and he’s acutely aware of how their toes are touching. He wonders if Albert can hear his heart beating hard, from this close.

“Something about myself?” Albert repeats back. Despite the darkness, from their proximity, Charlie can see Albert blink slowly at him. “We’ve known each other for like ten years. What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie says, because there are parts of _him_ he knows Albert doesn’t know — there has to be things about Albert that Charlie doesn’t know. Yet. “Like, I didn’t know you were afraid of thunderstorms until like twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m not _afraid_ of thunderstorms,” Albert protests, and Charlie lets out a clear laugh. “I just don’t like them,” he says, disgruntled. 

“It’s cute,” Charlie assures him, grabbing Albert’s hand. He wants to punctuate his sentiment with a kiss — he wants to _so badly_ — but he settles for just giving Albert’s hand a squeeze. 

They’ve held hands a lot of times before, but it feels more charged this time, for some reason. Albert squeezes his hand back.

Their power is out, but their intertwined fingers are generating enough electricity to power their entire apartment.

Charlie should probably _not_ think about Albert as anything more than his friend. Not when he knows it won’t lead to anything. He should probably let go of Albert’s hand. 

He doesn’t.

“Oh, well, _thank you_ ,” Albert says, using his free hand to flick Charlie’s forehead. It still doesn’t dampen Charlie’s grin, and it certainly doesn’t slow his heartbeat.

“You’re welcome,” Charlie says, trying to force his tone to be light, and to not let it show that he’s sort of-maybe-kind of in love with Albert. He _needs_ to get over this crush. He needs to just focus, right now, on his _friend_. “I know my compliments mean the world to you.”

“Yeah,” Albert replies, and it sounds completely and utterly genuine, no joking behind it. Charlie’s heart skips a beat. He’s probably imagining it. “So something about me —” Albert hesitates, and hesitates, and hesitates. Charlie can _feel_ him hold in a breath.

And then Albert finally says, “I’m a liar.”

“What?” Charlie says, because it gives him pause for Albert to say that he’s a _liar_. It’s a pretty negative thing to be, and it’s a pretty big thing to admit to.

“I’ve been lying to you,” Albert says, running his thumb over Charlie’s knuckles. “For years.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asks, his mind racing. He’s hoping Albert’s being _Albert_ , and it’s something ridiculous and not serious. Like maybe Albert’s natural hair color isn’t red.

Still, it doesn’t sound like there’s an ounce of humor in Albert’s voice.

“I mean. Not _lying_ ,” Albert amends, now alternating between rubbing Charlie’s knuckles and squeezing his hand. “But I haven’t been honest about something, and it’s something sort of big.”

“What?” Charlie asks, shifting himself to be even closer to Albert. He wishes he could make out his features better, but Charlie has Albert’s face memorized to a T anyways.

“I just — I didn’t really know how to tell you,” Albert says, and his voice cracks at the end. It feels like this conversation should be happening the other way around, because isn’t _Charlie_ the one who’s been lying to Albert about something, about something _huge_?

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” Charlie says quickly, because it’s not like he told Albert the truth about why he’s been shitty to Albert, so why should Albert admit this big thing to Charlie?

And, a selfish part of Charlie doesn’t want it to snowball into _him_ admitting his secret.

“I know,” Albert says, and now he grips Charlie’s hand tightly, like he’s holding on for his life. “But I want to come clean about something.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, and he tries to brace himself.

“Well,” Albert says, and Charlie can feel him draw in a deep breath. Charlie’s stomach is positively churning. “I know this is gonna change everything about our friendship, one way or another, but I —” Albert hesitates, and Charlie squeezes his hand, just to let him know that he’s here, he’s listening.

What he doesn’t try to get across is that he’s absolutely terrified. He knows that Albert’s capable of being serious, but he’s never seen him be _this_ serious before. He doesn’t want their friendship to change. That terrifies him too.

“I like you,” Albert says, his voice low and thick. “A lot. Like as _more_ than a friend.”

It takes Charlie’s brain a second to catch up to what Albert’s said. 

Except — 

That doesn’t make sense.

“Oh,” Charlie says, because he’s incapable of actually talking. “Oh,” he repeats, and he thinks Albert broke him. It feels like his brain is buffering, because it’s taking too long for things to actually make sense. It doesn’t really click, what Albert said. That Albert —

That Albert _what?_ As more than a _what?_

Charlie’s short-circuiting.

“I just —” Albert says, and then he tries to wriggle his hand out of Charlie’s grip. This time, it’s _Charlie’s_ turn to hold on tight, and he needs to make the connection between his brain and his mouth work because he can’t lose this. 

He can’t lose any of this.

“I like you too,” Charlie manages to choke out. 

His sentence stays in the air, sitting between them, and it’s heavy, and it’s thick, and it’s tangible, and they’re both quiet for a second, staring at each other’s vague features in the dark.

And then Albert says, “Oh,” and the heaviness of it all dissipates. 

Charlie starts laughing and so Albert starts laughing and they’re both laughing, and Charlie’s still clutching Albert’s hand, so Albert twists their hands to intertwine their fingers and it’s the most natural fit in the world. Charlie lets go of Albert’s hand for a second to pull him closer to himself and then he intertwines their fingers again.

He never wants to let go.

“I feel stupid,” Albert says, his breath hitting Charlie’s face.

“Why?” Charlie asks. He’s wishing that he could _see_ Albert right now and he’s wishing that the storm would stop and their lights would come back on.

“I’ve been worried for a _while_ about liking you,” Albert admits, rubbing his thumb up and down on Charlie’s hand. “I didn’t want to screw up our friendship.”

“Me too,” Charlie says quietly, closing his eyes for a second to take in the moment. He wants to remember this, forever and ever. “That’s why I pulled away,” he admits next, still keeping his eyes shut closed. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up and see something that wasn’t there.”

“Never do that again. Please,” Albert pleads, his voice low. Charlie’s eyes fly open and he wants to see Albert’s face _so bad_.

Charlie pulls him even closer.

Charlie has no idea how long they stay there, wrapped up in each other, but when they finally decide to disentangle from each other, the power is still out.

“I really want to kiss you,” Albert says, as they stand up.

“I really want to kiss you, too,” Charlie says. He realizes that they’re still holding hands, but honestly, Charlie never wants to let go.

“I want to see your face, though,” Albert tells him, and Charlie squeezes Albert’s hand and blindly leads him to the kitchen.

“We have some type of candle somewhere,” Charlie says, putting an arm out in front of him while they stumble around their little kitchen. He hears Albert bump into something, and he nearly smacks his head into a cabinet. It’s really romantic.

Eventually, though, after opening almost every single drawer, Charlie finds what he’s pretty sure is a pack of birthday candles and he finds their matches also. He lets go of Albert's hand to light the wick, and the light is faint, but it’s also blinding compared to the darkness before.

It’s only been around an hour since Charlie saw Albert’s face clearly, but he’s missed it so, so much.

He almost blurts out the words right there, the _“I love you”_ , because he’s staring at Albert, and he’s not sure how he’s ever missed the few birthmarks on his face before, but somehow he _did_ , so he’s looking at them now and he wants to hold the little candle closer in order to see Albert’s faint freckles but he also doesn’t want to light his boyfriend on fire.

Holy shit, is Albert his _boyfriend_?

Albert smiles, and Charlie thinks about sticking his finger into Albert’s dimples, and he thinks about how he’s going to have years and years to do that.

“Can I —?” Albert asks, and Charlie nods, his mouth going dry.

And then Albert takes Charlie’s head in his hands and they kiss by the light of a birthday candle. 

And it’s perfect. 

… 

The power comes back on just as they’re about to go to sleep.

“Do you want to —?” Albert says, gesturing wildly at Charlie, and then himself, and then at his bedroom door. 

Charlie’s tempted to pretend like he can’t interpret Albert’s vague sign language, but also, _yes_ , he wants to sleep with Albert, so he nods and grabs Albert’s hand again.

They sleep, that night, tangled up in each other, and Charlie’s _so_ aware of the feel of Albert’s bare legs touching his, and nothing has ever felt more right.

When Charlie wakes up, he’s sweaty from the constant contact with another human being, but it’s also _Albert_ so he doesn’t care. He twists his neck enough so he can press his lips to Albert’s cheek and then he leans his head back to stare at his sleeping maybe-boyfriend. They should probably talk about that.

For now, Charlie lets himself be held by Albert, and he holds Albert right back. 

It’s Saturday, so Charlie doesn’t have any work to get to, and he knows Albert’s doesn’t have a class until the afternoon. Even if either of them _had_ to get up, Charlie would gladly forgo it to cuddle with Albert for hours on end.

Charlie lays there for another half hour or so, and then he can feel Albert slowly start to stir. He cracks open his eyes, and Charlie is right there, staring into them.

“Oh, good, I thought I was dreaming,” Albert says, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Nope,” Charlie says. And then, because he can’t stand _not_ to, he presses a soft kiss to Albert’s lips. He can feel Albert’s lips quirk up at it. When they pull away, Charlie looks at Albert’s face and then squeezes his eyes shut tight for a second, because he wants to memorize the soft look in Albert’s brown eyes forever and ever. He brings up a hand to poke Albert’s dimples and Albert grins even wider.

“My breath probably stinks,” Albert breathes out, and Charlie could think of about one hundred more romantic things to say while they’re like this, but the sentence is so utterly _Albert_ that he doesn’t really care.

“It always does,” Charlie says.

And then, because he can, he kisses Albert again.

“Wait, shit —” Charlie says, breaking the kiss after a few seconds.

“Language,” Albert says instinctively. Charlie wants to smack him, but he also wants to ask a _very_ important question, and he thinks his want to do the latter outweighs his want to smack Albert.

“Be my boyfriend?” Charlie asks, feeling a little lightheaded.

“I thought that was implied,” Albert asks with a laugh, his dimples appearing again. Charlie makes a quiet noise of protest, but then Albert cups Charlie’s cheek and kisses him again and…

And he wants this forever.

… 

It’s Saturday, so they still have their weekly movie night, but in the end they don’t pay much attention to _Beauty and the Beast_. Charlie spends the entire 92 minutes getting thoroughly distracted by Albert’s lips.

… 

“You know,” Charlie says, when Albert’s head is on his chest and he’s maybe three seconds from falling asleep, “with the amount of pride Jack has about Sarah and Kath, we probably shouldn’t tell him about us. His head will combust.”

“I feel like he _might_ have picked up on us liking each other over the past ten years,” Albert mumbles, half the words muffled by the fabric of Charlie’s shirt. 

“We didn’t,” Charlie points out, maneuvering a hand around Albert’s side in order to grab his hand and give it a squeeze.

“We’re dumb,” Albert says. He has a point. Honestly, if he looks at the entire time he’s known Albert, he feels a little stupid for not realizing that Albert liked him earlier — or, at the very least, not realizing that _he_ liked Albert.

“He didn’t know Race and Spot were dating until they got engaged,” Charlie counters, kissing the top of Albert’s head.

“Hm,” Albert says, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s chest. “In other news, we’re friends with an unobservant idiot.”

“Yep,” Charlie replies. They’re quiet for a second, and Charlie thinks they might drift off to sleep but another thought occurs to him. “Are we telling people about us? Like our friends?”

Albert shrugs, as much as he can while curled up on Charlie. “I figured we wouldn’t _hide_ it, but we don’t have to text all of our friends that we’re a thing. Just let them pick up on it.”

“So we’re just not letting Jack know?” Charlie asks, moving his hand to run through Albert’s hair. “Because he’s not going to pick up on it.”

Albert snorts, and Charlie wants to kiss him on the lips, but he also doesn’t want to disturb Albert’s comfortable position, so he settles for another kiss on the top of the head. 

And with that, they slowly drift off to sleep.

… 

Out of all their friends, Charlie’s pretty sure Race is the first one to find out about his relationship with Albert. He doesn’t exactly make it subtle, though, when he picks Albert from their studio with a kiss on his cheek.

“Does this mean I get to stop listening to you pining?” Race asks, his mouth slightly agape, pointing at Albert.

Charlie laughs and Albert flushes red but takes Charlie’s hand anyway.

… 

“I think I’m in love, David,” Charlie says, sitting down at his desk. He knows he has a stupid smile on his face, because he’s been dating Albert for nearly three months, and he _still_ can’t wipe his smile off whenever he thinks about him.

“You know what?” David replies, glancing over at him. “I think I might be also.”

Charlie grins wider.

… 

“Buttons is in town,” Charlie says, finding it a little bit hard to move his arms with Albert draped over them.

“We’re going out?” Albert asks, pressing a kiss to the inside of Charlie’s arm.

“If you wanna,” Charlie replies, because he loves Buttons, but he’d much rather be with Albert than go out with their friends without him.

“Is this the first time we’re all hanging out since we’ve started dating?” Albert asks, rolling around to look at Charlie.

“I think so, yeah,” he replies. Albert reaches up a hand to push on the back of Charlie’s neck to bring his head down. Charlie complies, and Albert presses a kiss to his lips. When he pulls back, Albert’s grinning, dimples and all.

“You wanna take bets on who will notice we’re dating?” Albert asks, and Charlie rolls his eyes.

“Everyone but Jack is going to realize,” Charlie says, and Albert laughs, loud and clear.

Charlie lets his heart beat faster.

“I love you,” Albert replies, popping the words out there for no real reason. It’s just — 

“I love you, too,” Charlie tells him. Just because he _does_. He’s vaguely aware that it’s the first time they’ve said it to each other romantically, but Charlie doesn’t think it’ll be anywhere near the last.

So he says it again, because he can, and because he _does_. He loves Albert.

They still have a long time to live, but there’s something in Charlie that’s telling him that it’ll be true for a long, long time.

He believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is also written for various challenges, so feel free to ignore these notes)  
> herbology club, plot one, crush  
> Character Appreciation — Emotion: Envy; Record Collection — I Heard Love Is Blind: Write about wanting a specific person but not being able to have them.; Bingo — Just to see if I could: Write a pairing you've never written before; Book Club — Cale: (object) candle, (dialogue) "Things were different then.", (trope) slow burn; Showtime — You Can't Stop the Beat: (weather) Rainy; Amber's Attic — (action) holding hands; Elizabeth's Empire — (trope) friends to lovers; Bex's Basement — Stormforce 10: Write about a thunderstorm.; Lizzy's Loft — Why Bother: (dialogue) "I want to come clean."; Angel's Archives — 3. The Fool [The stand can control and enhance sand freely]: (word) buffer; Scamander's Case — (weather) thunderstorm; Film Festival — (genre) friendship; Marvel Appreciation — (relationship) exes; Lyric Alley — If you ever loved me; TV Spree — Dialogue: Well... when I'm with a boy I like, it's hard for me to say anything cool, or, or witty. Or at all. I-I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away.; The Forecast Says — 14th. Rain: Lying down on the floor; EnTitled — The One Where Eddie Moves In: Write about getting a roommate  
> 10375 words by google docs


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm done with this fic i swear  
> note to anyone reading this in the future - this was posted after ch3 and 4 but is second chronologically (technically) so it's ch2  
> anyway. enjoy albert's pov that has a lot less charlie/albert interaction and more focuses on building albert's relationship with jojo for most of the fic. honestly i might combine the two chapters eventually because there's so little overlap but. Whatever.  
> as with every chapter in this fic, this is based off of [finn's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller), fics! it's based off of [parallel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557761/chapters/59304034) and follows [collision course](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489789/chapters/61833772) but honestly read all of finns fics because they are! amazing. literally amazing. i'm a little bit too obsessed oh well

Rationally, Albert knows he shouldn’t be all that upset about breaking up with Jack. It’s better for both of them, he rationalizes, to just be friends. 

Still, Albert can’t help but have this creeping feeling that Jack actually hates him. The last time he broke up with someone was at the end of his senior year and Albert remembers the tears and the fight and she _definitely_ hates him.

So, great.

And now Albert is realizing that he didn’t really spend much time getting real _friends_ in college — he had a boyfriend, why would he need friends? — so it’s not like he has anyone to vent to. He doesn’t _regret_ dating Jack, because he likes Jack, he really does, but…

He sort of regrets it.

And somehow, he finds himself standing in front of Jack’s dorm room door, staring at Jack’s roommate, Charlie. Albert should be going to his ballet class.

Albert doesn’t particularly want to go to his ballet class.

Attendance isn’t mandatory anyway, so it doesn’t _really_ matter.

“Jack’s not here,” Charlie says when he sees Albert in his doorway. Albert frowns, and maybe he shouldn’t be talking to Charlie about this all, but Charlie likes him — or, at the very least, tolerates him — and he’s already _here_ now, and his own dorm room is in a hall all the way across campus.

“Can I actually talk to you?” Albert asks. Charlie looks a little bit taken aback, like he doesn’t expect Albert to want to talk to him — which is valid — but lets him into the room.

Charlie sits on his own bed and Albert sits on the edge of Jack’s bed. He hadn’t thought this through, how awkward it is to be in Jack’s room without Jack. He only half-knows Charlie. This was an awful idea.

Albert takes a deep breath, though, and blinks hard. It’s only awkward if he makes it awkward. 

Right?

Albert shifts around on Jack’s bed until he’s hanging off of it, his hair nearly touching the carpet, and all of the blood rushes to his head pretty fast, but it’s familiar and it’s normal and Albert is fine. He’ll be fine.

…

And Albert goes back.

Maybe it says something more about him than it does about Charlie — that he’s distancing himself from his roommate and not making any real friends in his classmates and he’s focusing on one person.

His subconscious sounds like his mother.

Still, it’s easy to be around Charlie. It’s easy to drape himself all over Charlie because Charlie simply _lets_ him. It’s easy to just sit on Jack’s bed and paint his nails and listen to Charlie mumble about numbers. 

“You know,” Albert says, painting a stripe of green onto his thumb’s nail, “I decided to major in dance specifically to _not_ hear math for the rest of my life.”

“Really?” Charlie says, frowning down at his textbook. “I thought it had something to do with the fact that you’ve been dancing since you were out of the womb.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Albert says, grinning sideways at Charlie. 

Charlie’s quiet for a second before saying, “I can be quiet, if you want.”

Albert frowns over at Charlie and half-shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine,” he tells Charlie, because he really doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s cute, hearing Charlie talk about derivatives and cosines and — Albert _really_ doesn’t know math.

Charlie gives Albert a once-over before turning back to his textbook and continuing to mumble.

…

Charlie invites Albert to be in the Exes Club and Albert is in the group chat for less than twenty minutes before Race texts him outside of it. Albert has no idea why he’s being texted by Race — they met each other, briefly, at Jack’s house during New Year’s, and Albert liked talking with him, but he doesn’t know why Race is texting him now, months later. Still, Albert’s going to reply.

_Race: i don’t know if this is weird or not but honestly i’ve been half debating whether or not to ask jack for your number for a few weeks now so_

_Race: but i didn’t really want him to ask why i was asking_

_Race: can i ask you a question?_

_Race: and can you maybe not tell jack that i’m texting you lol_

_Me: yeah sure. to all of the above_

_Race: i know you’re majoring in dance, but what are you going to do with that?_

_Me: jeez, you sound like my mother_

_Race: sorry_

_Me: no it’s fine_

_Me: i don’t know. i was thinking maybe teaching dance? maybe choreographing shows or something? probably something behind the scenes, not like performing_

_Race: you wanna teach?_

_Me: yeah, i mean i think i’d like that, if i find a good studio_

_Race: you ever think about opening your own studio?_

_Me: i’ve been thinking about opening my own studio since i was seven, race_

_Me: i don’t know how viable opening a studio by myself would be though_

_Race: why don’t you get a partner?_

_Me: that would be great, but i don’t really talk to my dancer friends in michigan that much and i’m literally awful at talking in class here, so i’m not really friends with any dancers, and i don’t think i’m friends with any dancers who would want to open up a studio with me_

_Race: uhhhhh hello?_

_Me: you?_

_Me: i thought you were going into like some fancy physics science thing_

_Race: yeah i don’t know about all of that anymore_

_Race: i think i wanna teach dance_

_Me: sick_

_Me: and you’d want to open a studio? with me?_

_Race: yeah, someday. i’d love that. i mean, i’d love, more, having a real plan_

_Me: well, this sounds like an excellent one, if i do say so myself_

_Race: thank you_

_Me: no problem_

…

Albert’s roommate, Dutchy, brings a girl back to their room and Albert holes himself back up in Charlie and Jack’s room, trying to erase images from his brain.

When Dutchy texts him and asks if he wants to room together next year, Albert says yes, because it’s not like he’s going to spend much time there anyway — annoying Charlie is much more fun. It works out for both of them.

… 

Albert goes home for the summer, because he barely got away with missing the second half of winter vacation and he doesn’t think his parents would be pleased with him leaving them for an entire summer.

It’s not that he doesn’t love his parents, because he _does_ , but it feels a little bit suffocating to be around them. He decided to not go to the University of Michigan for a reason.

Rationally, Albert knows that his parents love him. He _does_ know that. It’s just, he’s spent so long being closeted in front of them. He’s spent so long trying to shove down a part of himself that he was terrified of. He’s not really sure how to be himself in front of them. It especially doesn’t help that Albert spent the last few weeks of his senior year closing himself off from his friends, so it’s not even like he has old high school friends he wants to hang out with.

Albert’s always thought the idea of FOMO was a little bit stupid, but he finds himself thinking about how badly he wants to be in Chicago. He wants to be with Jack, he wants to be with Race, he wants to be with _Charlie_.

It helps, though, constantly being on his phone and texting Charlie. It’s a nice reminder of how to actually be himself. 

Albert spends his summer on his phone, documenting to Charlie his adventures in eating too much dairy and feeling sick, reading all seven Harry Potter books in one week, ordering dairy drinks from Starbucks and feeling sick, spilling nail polish all over his bed, and eating ice cream every single day of the week and feeling sick.

Charlie offers him unhelpful advice every time Albert complains about feeling sick, like not eating dairy, and Albert can’t wait to annoy him in person again.

…

Within three weeks of his sophomore year, Albert meets Mike and Ike and he’s half-convinced their parents hated them for calling that. Calling twins similar names is the tackiest thing you could do, in Albert’s opinion. They’re both in his Intro to Business class and Albert doesn’t want to pat himself on the back too much, but he’s able to tell them apart from each other pretty well within a few weeks of talking to them.

For instance, Ike is the twin that’s going into graphic design.

Mike is the twin that Albert has a crush on.

Ike, more or less, pushes the two of them to date — “Because I’m _sick_ of the two of you pining over each other in class, it’s disgusting, really.” — and so they do. Albert spends nearly the same amount of time in Mike and Ike’s dorm room than he does in Charlie and Jack’s room. Dating Mike is simple and nice and sweet and Albert’s not sure he likes it that much.

There’s a part of him, first of all, that won’t tell Charlie about his relationship. He finds himself talking about Charlie to Mike a lot though, with his head in Mike’s lap and Mike’s fingers in his hair.

“We were actually sitting right like this,” Albert says, telling Mike about Charlie accidentally punching him in the face.

“You sit like this with Charlie?” Mike asks, and there’s something weird in his voice.

“Yeah?” Albert says, looking up at Mike, feeling confused. It’s a comfortable position for Albert to lay in, and he likes laying across his friends. He’s always been touchy with his friends, but it’s not like it _means_ something. He doesn’t like Charlie like that.

“Hm,” Mike says, not elaborating on his question. It irritates Albert and rubs him the wrong way.

Albert breaks up with Mike after four months and then spends the rest of the semester making forced polite conversation to Ike and pretending his heart doesn’t race each time he sees his brother.

…

_Racechu: uhhhh since we’re on the topic, i hope you know that i’m not planning on moving out of chicago_

_Racechu: sean and i are going to find an apartment near home_

_Racechu: i probably should’ve brought this up before you took like 4 semesters of business classes_

_Me: i was thinking about moving here anyway_

_Me: i mean, i have like four friends and they’re all staying in chicago, so there’s that_

_Me: plus i’ve been falling more and more in love with the idea of opening a studio and i’m not going to do that without you_

_Racechu: legit?_

_Me: legit_

…

Charlie gets a boyfriend, Tommy, and Albert doesn’t know why the thought pisses him off so much. Maybe it’s because his head is in Charlie’s lap, and he’s thinking of Mike, and what if Charlie’s boyfriend wants Albert to… 

To not be Albert?

Albert can’t stand the thought. 

When Charlie and Tommy break up, Albert holds him tight and it feels like his breathing is evened out.

…

“What are you majoring in?” Albert asks into the darkness one night, not even sure if his roommate is awake.

It’s just that he’s spent four years rooming with Dutchy and he doesn’t even _know_ the guy. Maybe that’s his fault, though, because he spent most of his time in Charlie’s dorm room. He doesn’t think that Dutchy _minded_ — he basically had his own room, all throughout college — but aren’t roommates supposed to be built in best friends?

“English Literature,” Dutchy’s voice replies out of the darkness. Albert turns onto his side to look at Dutchy, but he can’t really see in the dark, so it doesn’t really matter.

“What’re you gonna do?” Albert asks. He’s assuming Dutchy has some sort of plan, because there are just three simple weeks until they’re done and graduated.

“I’m gonna teach, hopefully,” Dutchy replies. “I’m going for my major in education, though.”

“I’m gonna teach too,” Albert says, stretching his toes out. He and Race have started _really_ talking about opening a studio, about the logistics of it all, about finding a place and students. Besides that, Albert’s had some of his own job interviews at a couple of studios, just to earn a starting living. “Dance, though,” he clarifies. “Not English.”

Dutchy lets out a little laugh, and maybe Albert’s just feeling nostalgic already, but he’s going to miss living with him.

…

Albert sits through three painstaking hours of engineering graduation, but it’s worth it to hear them call up Charles Morris and it’s worth it to see Charlie’s smile after as Albert grabs his hand with a little squeeze.

They’ve both made it.

…

Albert gets hired at the same studio Race takes jobs in and he takes immense pleasure in calling Race his coworker. He also finds a little apartment forty minutes away from his work and Albert can’t afford a car, so he has to take the bus, which is honestly annoying. Charlie and Jack find a little apartment that’s _much_ closer to his studio, but Charlie has a real, nine-to-five job and Albert can’t invade their space as much.

It’s a painful reminder that they’re not in college anymore, and Albert sort of hates it.

…

“I want that one,” Albert says to Race as soon as they walk out of their meeting. Race gives him a weird look that Albert barely registers, because his entire body is absolutely _thrumming_.

“I mean, I guess it’s a good price, but shouldn’t we wait until we look at it first?” Race asks, running a hand through his hair. Albert blinks for a second because why would they need to look at it? Then he remembers that he’s supposed to be looking for a place to open up a dance studio with Race. 

“Oh, right, yeah,” Albert says, waving a hand. “Sure. But I meant —” Albert makes a little choking noise in his throat, and he’s pretty sure Race is concerned for his health.

“Are you okay?” Race asks. Albert lets out a little whine at that.

“Did you _see_ him, Tones?” Albert asks, grabbing Race’s shoulders. Race looks increasingly more worried, his entire face scrunching up in concern.

“See who?” Race asks slowly, taking Albert’s hands and moving them off of him. “Our maybe new landlord?”

“Not _him_ ,” Albert replies, rolling his eyes hard. “His _son_. JoJo.”

“His son,” Race repeats back at Albert. He nods vigorously, and then closes his eyes briefly because when he does that, he can still picture JoJo’s light curls and _god_ , Albert wants to touch them. “I hate you, Al.”

“I really think we should invest in that studio,” Albert replies, quite earnest. He _did_ pay attention during the meeting and it _is_ a good investment for them — not _too_ expensive, they’re able to make renovations if they want, four classrooms, all on the bottom level. And if Albert gets to talk to JoJo more — well, there’s no harm in that.

“Let’s see the place first,” Race says, sounding a little bit weak. Albert grins.

The next thing he does is pull out his phone to text Charlie, because Charlie is the first person he needs to tell these things to.

_Me: hi so basically i have already picked out my husband_

_Me: i’m in love_

_Charliezard: is it me?_

_Me: no unfortunately. i know you’re crushed_

_Charliezard: I’m absolutely gutted_

_Me: tones and i just had a meeting with a landlord and his son was there and i swear i am going to marry that man_

_Charliezard: have you asked him out or is this all speculation?_

_Me: i’m going to have to ask him out??_

_Me: i’m not too sure about that_

_Charliezard: no husband for you then_

_Me: :(_

…

“What are you doing Friday night?” Albert asks, sliding up to JoJo as Race acts like an actual adult and signs their lease paper.

“I don’t know,” JoJo replies, blatantly checking Albert out in a way that makes his body buzz. “What did you have in mind?”

“You wanna go ice skating?” Albert blurts out, saying the first thing that comes into his mind. It’s a terrible thing to suggest, because it’s embarrassing how bad Albert is at ice skating — especially since he’s from Michigan and a dancer. He should be a fantastic skater, but he can barely stand in ice skates.

“With you?” JoJo asks, breaking out into a wide smile. “Of course.”

On Friday, Albert brings almost his whole wardrobe to Charlie and Jack’s apartment and lays out several different outfits. Jack’s perched on the counter, looking amused as Albert scrambles around. Charlie’s sitting on the couch, looking like he’s trying to not be amused and instead trying to be a good friend. That’s why Charlie’s Albert’s favorite.

“Did you ever put this much effort into me?” Jack asks, as Albert tugs on his eighth new shirt of the night. Albert gives half a shrug before glancing in the mirror. He hates his outfit. “Thank you,” Jack calls over.

Charlie gets up from the couch and pokes around in Albert’s clothes before pulling out a nice sweater and track pants. It’s simple, but Albert sort of loves that Charlie’s actually helping him.

“There,” Charlie says, throwing the clothes at Albert. “It’s not too dressy but you’ll still look cute in it.” The compliment does something weird to Albert’s stomach but he ignores it in favor of glancing at Jack like, _this is what a good friend looks like_. 

“Plus you won’t freeze your ass off,” Jack points out, and Albert gives him a tiny bit of credit for trying, at least.

“Language,” Albert says, more out of habit than anything else, as he tugs off the clothes he’s wearing and puts on the clothes Charlie picked out.

An hour later, Albert is just as bad at ice skating as he remembers, but he finds himself not caring because JoJo holds his hand and buys him hot chocolate and kisses him goodnight after it all.

They already have a date for next Thursday.

…

“You need to meet Charlie,” Albert says, his head furrowed into JoJo’s neck, breathing in his smell.

“Charlie?” JoJo asks, bringing up a hand to run it through Albert’s hair.

“He’s my best friend, like, ever,” Albert explains, even though that feels like an overly simple way to describe Charlie. Albert’s half in love with Charlie. He’d be gutted if they ever stop being friends.

“I’d love to meet him,” JoJo says, and Albert’s lips switch up into a smile. “Seeing as you met Willie.”

“Ugh,” Albert says, pushing away from JoJo to cup his face. “I mean, he’s your best friend and all, and I think he’s great, but his name. Ugh.”

JoJo gives Albert a small little smile and he leans in to softly press his lips to Albert’s. Albert feels like he’s floating.

…

Albert loves that JoJo likes Charlie. He loves that Charlie likes JoJo also. Charlie has been the most important person in Albert’s life for years. He hasn’t known JoJo all that long, but he’s pretty sure he’s moving up there also. He wouldn’t know what to do if they _didn’t_ like each other.

He doesn’t have to worry about that, though, because they do like each other, and Albert is the happiest he’s been in years.

…

For their first year anniversary, Albert brings JoJo back to the rink where they had their very first date. It’s a little bit of a basic idea, but Albert practices for a week beforehand, so that at least he can stand upright.

He ends up holding JoJo’s hand all the way through anyway, and he spends the night entangled in JoJo’s limbs.

…

“I have a boyfriend,” Charlie says casually, sitting on his couch as Albert stretches his legs out to dig his toes into Charlie’s leg. 

“Oh, yeah?” Albert asks, digging his toes in a little bit deeper. Charlie gives Albert a weird, jerky nod, and Albert bites his tongue, waiting for Charlie to elaborate on his relationship. “What’s his name?” Albert asks when it becomes clear that Charlie is done talking.

“Henry,” Charlie says, and Albert already dislikes this guy, because he doesn’t understand why Charlie’s acting so cagey about his relationship. It’s not like they haven’t talked about their relationships before — they’ve been crossing that threshold for years.

“Are you happy with him?” Albert asks, shifting on the couch so that he can properly look Charlie in the eyes.

Charlie frowns, and Albert isn’t sure it’s because he’s _not_ happy with Henry, or if it’s because he doesn’t know why Albert is asking the question.

“I am,” Charlie says, and Albert spends a second looking into Charlie’s eyes for some sort of sign that anything’s wrong. He doesn’t find any, but if this Henry guy hurts Charlie…

Albert doesn’t even know what he would do.

…

“You wanna move in with me?” JoJo asks as they lay in bed, his fingers tracing Albert’s bicep with his fingers as Albert hugs JoJo’s side.

“Move in with you?” Albert repeats, because that seems like such a big thing. He and JoJo have been dating for almost two years now, and Albert can’t really see himself with anyone else, but moving in feels so _permanent_. 

“I mean, you’re here all the time anyway,” JoJo points out, and Albert grins because he tends to invade the space of people he loves. “It’s closer to your work, also,” JoJo says, and Albert has to give that one to him. It’s also closer to the places he goes all the time, like Charlie and Jack’s apartment.

“You sure?” Albert asks. JoJo shifts his body around to face Albert and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Very.”

…

“I love Charlie,” Albert announces as he walks into their apartment, his keys dangling from his fingers. He’s staring down at his phone, open to his text thread with Charlie, and he’s not looking where he’s going, so he walks smack straight into JoJo.

“Thanks for that,” JoJo says, taking Albert’s things from his hands and putting them on their kitchen countertop so that JoJo can take Albert’s hands in his own and press a kiss to his lips. “What did Charlie do this time?”

“We eat lunch together on Wednesdays, right?” Albert says and JoJo nods, “but tomorrow, during our lunch break, Race and I have a meeting with Jack and Medda, so Char’s bringing me food and crashing our meeting so that I can get food and not suffer alone.”

“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” JoJo says, his tone light and teasing.

“You have work,” Albert says in a sing-songy voice, poking JoJo’s arm. JoJo puts on a fake pout and Albert lets out a laugh and kisses it away.

…

“I liked Henry,” JoJo says, as he and Albert walk away from their double date with Charlie and Henry.

“Yeah,” Albert says and he knows that JoJo’s looking at him with concern. He didn’t _dislike_ Henry, and he’s glad that he’s finally met his best friend’s boyfriend, but there’s a weird pit in Albert’s stomach. 

There’s just something that rubbed him the wrong way about him. It’s weird, and Albert tries to brush it off and focus on his boyfriend.

…

“Henry broke up with me,” Charlie blurts out over pizza. Albert blinks, because they’ve been sitting in a comfortable silence, Albert thinking about how much he’s going to regret their lunch later and Charlie thinking about — 

Well, apparently how Henry broke up with him.

“When?” Albert asks, putting his food down. He thought that they had just celebrated their first anniversary, just a little bit after Albert and JoJo’s anniversary.

“Two weeks ago,” Charlie says, and Albert immediately feels guilty for not noticing sooner. He’s probably seen Charlie at least six times since then and he hasn’t noticed. He’s terrible.

“Why?” Albert asks before thinking that maybe Charlie doesn’t want to be pressed about it. Charlie averts his eyes from Albert and gives a little shrug. Albert’s not sure what to say, but he can see Charlie blink fast and within a second he’s on Charlie’s side of the booth, giving him the best hug he can muster in that position.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Albert whispers, pressing his lips to Charlie’s hair. Charlie shakes his head, so Albert just grabs his hand while he holds him.

…

Albert half expects to be proposed to.

He’s been dating JoJo for three years now, and he knows that plenty of people have dated for way longer without getting married, but they’re both adults, and they’re both in love with each other, and —

And Albert can’t find a reason why they _wouldn’t_ get married. 

So he’s half-expecting JoJo to propose to him on their third anniversary, when JoJo says that he has a surprise for Albert. JoJo’s surprise is a whole drive-in theatre — he rented a huge projector and set it up in a lot of one of his father’s buildings. They cuddle up in the back of JoJo’s car and watch _Indiana Jones_ and Albert has never been as in love with anyone as he is with JoJo. 

He half expects JoJo to propose to him at the end of the movie. It’d be the perfect ending to a very perfect night.

And then the night ends and they go home and Albert can’t help but feel a tiny twinge of disappointment.

…

_JoJolteon: hey can we talk? in person?_

_Me: yeah i’m out with char but i’ll be home in like an hour_

_JoJolteon: okay just like it’s sort of important_

_JoJolteon: so whenever you’re home_

_Me: what did you wanna talk about?_

_JoJoleteon: i’ll tell you when i see you_

_Me: okay_

_Me: i love you_

…

“I just feel like we’re not really in love anymore,” JoJo is saying, and Albert’s brain is buzzing. “I feel like it’s just… gone.”

Albert nods, even though he has no idea what JoJo means. He’s so utterly in love with JoJo. He doesn’t think he knows how to _not_ be. He’s being broken up with, though, and he’s not sure what else to do other than nod.

“I’m sorry,” JoJo says, and a fiery sort of anger fills Albert up. He shouldn’t lash out. He shouldn’t, and yet — 

“Fine,” Albert snaps, standing up and walking away from JoJo. “Fine, I’ll leave, then.”

“You can stay here until you find another place to go,” JoJo offers. Albert lets out a laugh and it surprises his own ears to hear how bitter it sounds.

“No,” Albert says, willing everything in him to not start crying right now. “No, I’m leaving. Let me know when you’re not home. I’ll leave the key.”

JoJo looks like he wants to say something more, but there’s something roaring in Albert’s ears and he _loves JoJo_ but he doesn’t think anything JoJo could say right now would make it all better.

…

Charlie holds Albert while he falls apart and it hits Albert like a truck. It slaps him across the face, it sends an electric shock through his body.

“I love you, Char,” Albert admits.

“I love you, too, Albie,” Charlie replies, and Albert thinks they mean wildly different things.

Albert feels like he’s choking.

…

Charlie offers Albert his and Jack’s couch. Instead, Albert goes to Race and Spot’s apartment, and he’s freaking out, just a little bit.

He can’t be in love with Charlie. He can’t.

“Are you okay?” Race asks, as Albert sits on his couch and stares at their coffee table. He can’t even bring himself to cry right now; he did enough of that already.

“Fine,” Albert says, still staring at Race’s coffee table. 

If he really thinks about it, he probably doesn’t actually like Charlie like that. And he _needs_ to really think about it, because this is insanely huge. He can’t ruin his closest friendship. He’s probably just thinking he loves anyone because his love for JoJo needs to refocus or something like that.

Jesus, he took one psychology class and now he’s over-analyzing himself.

 _You don’t think you love Race,_ a small voice points out.

 _Race is married with a kid,_ Albert argues back at himself. _Charlie is single and was the first one to hug me after_.

Albert is still freaking out. He needs to stop this before he ruins his friendship with Charlie.

“Albo,” Race says, and Albert jumps a little bit because he didn’t even realize Race moved to sit next to him. 

“I think I’m in love with Charlie,” Albert whispers, feeling a little bit weak. He just needs to get it out. Once it’s out, he’ll be fine, and he’ll forget about loving Charlie like that. What an insane idea.

“Oh,” Race says, before wrapping his arms around Albert. Albert leans into Race, swallowing hard. “I have a little bit of experience in being in love with my best friend,” Race offers. “If you ever want to talk, you know where I am.”

“Thanks,” Albert says, but he already feels a little bit better.

He doesn’t actually love Charlie like that. He’s fine.

…

Albert moves into Jack’s old room and spending almost all of his free time with Charlie makes him feel like he’s in college again. It’s sort of fun, to have his best friend around all the time — he _finally_ actually lives with Charlie! — but also it’s not fun, not at all.

Charlie’s almost ever-constant presence in Albert’s life means that he’s almost always thinking about him, and Albert’s heart almost aches every time he thinks about loving Charlie. 

He’s still not sure that he does, in all honesty. He dated JoJo for _three years_. It’ll take time for him to fully get over it. That’s all the pang in Albert’s heart means when he looks at Charlie, or when he digs his toes into Charlie’s leg, or when he puts his head in Charlie’s lap and takes in the feel of Charlie’s fingers running through his hair.

That’s all it is.

…

Albert lays himself over Charlie and they watch _Mulan_ together. Charlie’s fingers are in Albert’s hair and Albert wants to kiss Charlie so badly — it’d be _so easy_ to just lean in and do it. Albert doesn’t.

He’s not going to use his best friend as a rebound.

…

The thing is, Albert could genuinely use a rebound. He has all of this pent up emotion floating around, and he’s sick of it all being directed towards Charlie. He’s sick of it in general.

So, Albert decides to go out — he doesn’t have any Thursday classes anyway — and he finds Oscar. He hates the way Oscar talks and acts and honestly most things about Oscar. Oscar’s hot, though, so Albert ends up going home with him.

When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn’t feel any better. When Oscar asks him on a proper date, Albert accepts, because maybe a nice date is what he needs. Not just a hookup. He can do a date.

Oscar shows up to Albert and Charlie’s apartment to pick him up — but he shows up thirty minutes early, and Albert is nowhere near ready.

“I have a date coming up,” Albert calls over his shoulder to Charlie after buzzing Oscar in. “Please be nice, I need to brush my teeth and put on good clothes.”

“I’m excellent at being nice,” Charlie says, giving Albert a grin that isn’t at all reassuring. Albert rolls his eyes, and he would warn Charlie to not be a little crap, but he honestly cares about this date like eighty percent.

By the time Albert is ready and is walking back into the living room, Charlie and Oscar are sitting on opposite sides of the room. Charlie doesn’t look pleased at all and Oscar looks like he wants to leave.

“Ready?” Albert asks, giving a little half-smile.

Oscar nearly jumps up and grabs Albert’s outstretched hand. Albert almost forgets to wave goodbye to Charlie.

…

Albert goes out with Oscar and then comes back home and stares at Charlie’s bedroom door for a bit, thinking about how he sort of desperately wants to kiss Charlie.

…

Albert is staring at a weird spot on the floor where he’s pretty sure a kid spilled something. He’s not really staring because he thinks a kid spilled something, but he’s staring because staring into oblivion and not thinking is so much easier than thinking about how he’s in love with his best friend.

“Albo?” Race says, tapping on Albert’s studio door with his knuckles.

“Hey, Racer,” Albert says, looking up slowly, blinking.

“Crutch told me you broke up with your boyfriend,” Race says, moving into Albert’s room and sliding down to the floor to sit next to Albert. “How are you doing?”

Albert blinks because he _forgot_ that he had broken up with Oscar. It only happened three days ago, but Albert hadn’t even been thinking about it. He’s honestly not upset about it. He’s just upset about —

“I love him,” Albert chokes out, feeling like his arms are lead. He can feel Race give him a once-over and understand exactly who he’s talking about. Race wraps his arms around Albert and Albert blinks hard. “I love him a lot, Race.”

Albert isn’t going to let himself cry over it, though. He’s not going to let himself mess up their friendship, either.

…

Albert and Charlie watch _Aladdin_ and Albert lets himself feel like he’s dating Charlie, for just a few moments. He wants it to be real, so badly.

…

Albert’s class ends at 3:00 and he knows that the class Sawyer is in with Race ends at 3:15 so Albert asks Jack to come fifteen minutes early so they can talk about something.

“What did you want to talk about?” Jack asks, looking concerned because Albert has wasted four of their fifteen minutes just staring at Jack.

“You dated Charlie, right?” Albert manages to say. He knows that Jack is probably going to make fun of him for this, but he’d rather get made fun of and get a boyfriend than be stuck pining over Charlie all hours of the day.

“Yeah, like fifteen years ago,” Jack says, giving Albert a weird smile. “Why?”

“How’d you do it?” Albert says, his voice low. He’s not sure that Jack can even hear him, because Jack looks a little bit confused at first.

Eventually, though, he answers, “It wasn’t easy. He’s a little shit.”

“Language,” Albert says, letting out a forced weak laugh. “How’d you ask him out?” Albert asks instead and Jack’s eyes go a little bit wide, like he finally understands what Albert wants.

“I just asked him, straight out,” Jack says with a shrug, which is entirely unhelpful, because Albert _cannot do that_. “Well, not _straight_ ,” Jack amends, wiggling his eyebrows and Albert wants to smack him, just a little bit.

“Thanks,” Albert says, because he still has no clue what to do.

“Do you want me to wingman you?” Jack offers and Albert shakes his head immediately. He can’t have Charlie _know_ that he likes him like that. That would defeat the whole purpose of everything. “Just let me know,” Jack says in a sing-songy voice and Albert will certainly _not_ be letting him know. 

…

The next week, Albert and Charlie watch _Toy Story_ and for once it’s a movie Albert has actually seen, so he settles his head on Charlie’s shoulder and figures that he doesn’t have to pay much attention to the movie itself and can pay more attention to just _Charlie_.

Albert grabs Charlie’s hand, just like he always does, and white clouds float across the screen.

After a few moments, Charlie pulls his hand away and Albert has no idea what he did wrong.

Or maybe he didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe Charlie just doesn’t want to hold hands right now. Which is fine. That’s fine.

They get almost all of the way through the movie when Albert goes to grab Charlie’s hand again and this time it’s clear that Charlie is specifically pulling away. 

Albert’s brain immediately goes into panic mode, and he can’t help but think: _what if Charlie knows?_ What if Charlie knows that Albert loves him and what if Charlie doesn’t like him back? What if Charlie doesn’t feel comfortable with their friendship anymore, because he knows that Albert’s letting himself read more into it?

What if Charlie just doesn’t like him, full stop?

…

Albert clearly remembers Charlie saying something about how he has no new projects at work until next week, that he finished everything he had for the week early. He’s not sure why Charlie is saying, now, that he’s busy at work. He’s not sure why Charlie is lying to him.

It’s Wednesday. They go out together on Wednesday. Albert can’t think of a single reason for Charlie to not want to go out with him — at least, no reason that Charlie wouldn’t just _say_.

“What are you doing for lunch?” Albert asks, leaning on the doorframe of Race’s room. His stomach is churning and it takes everything in him to not pull his phone out and text Charlie again.

“Aren’t you going out with Charlie?” Race asks, bending down to tie his shoe. When Race looks up, there’s something pushing the back of his eyes. Race frowns quickly at him.

“No, since he hates me,” Albert says, and like _hell_ is he going to cry. He and Race are friends, yeah, and Albert knows that they’re close, but he doesn’t particularly think they’re the type of friends that cry in each other’s arms.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Race says, getting up quickly and wrapping an arm around Albert. Albert leans into it and blinks hard. It’s just _lunch_. Maybe something _did_ come up at Charlie’s firm.

Albert’s lying to himself.

“He doesn’t,” Race insists, his face in Albert’s neck. 

Albert can’t bring himself to believe that.

…

Albert is stretching out on their couch, digging his toes into Charlie’s leg as he paints his fingernails, and it’s easy, at this moment, to forget that Albert’s pretty sure Charlie hates him.

And then Charlie says, “Can you not do that?” and Albert thinks his heart cracks, just a little bit. Charlie hates him. Albert can’t even think of a single thing he’s done to warrant that, and there’s a little anger that fills him, but Albert draws his knees to his chest and there’s a prickling feeling in his cheekbones that makes him feel like he’s going to cry.

…

Albert feels sort of bad for invading Race’s apartment, but he honestly doesn’t know where else to go. He paces back and forth in front of Race’s couch and Race looks up at him.

“This _sucks_ ,” Albert says, and those two words have made up half the words that Albert’s said since he came to Race’s apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” Race says, and Albert rolls his eyes, anger filling him up.

“Why?” Albert snaps, feeling bad that he’s taking it out on Race when he’d rather be taking it out on Charlie. “You’re actually acting like a decent friend and not pulling away for no good reason and claiming you’re not mad at me and lying to me when you don’t want to see me instead of just saying it outright.”

Albert gets it all out and then he wilts a little. He still feels anger underneath it all, but he feels something well up in him and then he bursts into tears. It’s the one thing he absolutely did _not_ want to do, and now he’s crying and he _hates_ this. He _hates_ that he loves Charlie, he _hates_ that Charlie hates him, he _hates_ that he’s crying in front of Race right now and he _hates_ that he feels like he’s drowning a little bit.

Race grabs Albert’s wrist and stops his pacing, forcing him down onto the couch. Albert takes a shaky breath and tries to will the tears to stop falling, but his body doesn’t want to listen to him and they keep on falling out instead.

“I don’t think Charlie Morris is capable of hating anyone,” Race says, hugging Albert’s head close to his chest. “That’s not the person I grew up with.”

“People change,” Albert points out and Race makes a little noise of pretest in the back of his throat. 

Albert knows that Charlie probably wouldn’t have changed _that_ much but there’s a small, scared part of him that thinks that maybe Charlie didn’t change at all. Maybe Charlie was always capable of hating people.

Maybe he just didn’t have anyone to hate until Albert came along.

…

If there’s one thing Albert hates more than pining after his best friend and having said best friend probably hate him for it, it’s thunderstorms.

He just doesn’t like the loud sound of the thunder, and he _hates hates hates_ the dark — he’s had plenty of thunderstorms that have ended in blackouts, and the feeling of dread he has at that is absolutely terrible.

Thunder booms and Albert tries to focus on the book that’s in his hands. He wasn’t particularly focusing on it before, though, with Charlie on the other end of the couch, but with the thunder, Albert can barely read the words on the page. Albert’s gripping the book so hard that the book is shaking along with his hands and he feels sick.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asks from the other end of the couch and Albert almost wants to laugh. He’s spent the last month crying into Race’s arms over Charlie and _now_ Charlie wants to ask if he’s okay?

“Fine,” Albert says. He knows his voice is a little bit clipped, but he can’t bring himself to really care. 

Thunder booms again and Albert nearly jumps out of his skin. His heart is beating so fast right now.

“Are you sure?” Charlie asks and Albert glances over to see Charlie cross the couch in a split second.

“I’m fine,” Albert lies. His stomach is absolutely churning right now and he’s praying to every god he can think of that Charlie will _not_ touch him right now. “I just don’t like storms, that’s all.”

Albert can hear Charlie exhale before grabbing Charlie’s hand. Albert’s hit, for a second, with how _right_ it feels to have Charlie’s hand in his. And then Albert remembers that Charlie pulled away first, so Albert yanks his hand back.

“Al,” Charlie says, and Albert wants to cry. He _is_ angry at Charlie, and he wants to stay angry, but there’s this huge part of him that can help but still be in love with him. 

God, he loves him _so badly_.

He’s so tired of loving someone that obviously doesn’t love him back.

“Don’t,” Albert says, putting his book aside without having read a single word. He gets up, because he wants to leave, he wants to go anywhere else but _here_. 

“ _Albert_ ,” Charlie says, standing up with Albert. Albert feels like he’s going to throw up, because he feels so angry and he feels so in love and everything feels like it’s going to bubble up and spill out and there’s a prickling sensation behind Albert’s eyes.

Albert opens his mouth to say _something_ , and he’s not sure if it’s to lash out at Charlie or to just finally _admit_ how much he loves Charlie, but before he can say anything, the lights go out.

“Fuck,” Albert says, despite his dislike of cursing. He hates the dark. He doesn’t even like getting up in the middle of the night, not if there's no moonlight coming into his room. It’s ridiculous, but suddenly he’s five years old again and his brother is hiding in the darkness, waiting to scare him half to death.

Albert reaches his hand out to find that Charlie was reaching for his hand anyway and Albert holds it, squeezing it just a little. It’s painful how _good_ it feels, and Albert can feel all of his anger dissipate. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie says, barely above a whisper. He steps closer to Albert and Albert wants to wrap Charlie up in his arms. “I’ve been a jerk,” Charlie says. Albert lets out a weak little laugh and squeezes his hand again.

“Yeah. I’m sure you had a good reason?” Albert asks, because it feels better than he thought it would to hear Charlie admit it.

 _It’s okay, I love you_ goes unsaid.

“I’ve just been dealing with some crap,” Charlie says and Albert immediately lets go of any last dregs of anger. Instead, it’s replaced by guilt, because how did he not notice his best friend going through something? He’s been so wrapped up in his own problems that he didn’t even notice Charlie going through something huge. He doesn’t even feel like he should be allowed to love Charlie.

“It’s just —” _I love you “_ — you’re my best friend,” Albert says, which feels entirely inadequate. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“I don’t want to lose that either,” Charlie says. Albert can feel his eyes well up with tears and if some of them fall out — well, it’s not like Charlie can see him anyway.

“You won’t,” Albert says. It’s half a promise and half a question. He wouldn’t do anything to purposefully lose their friendship, but he needs to know that Charlie wouldn’t either, because he doesn’t want to wreck their friendship.

He loves Charlie too much to ruin their friendship.

He loves Charlie too much and he’s afraid that’ll ruin their friendship. 

“C’mere,” Charlie says, sinking down to the floor and pulling Albert down with him. They release their hands from each other, but they’re laying so close to each other that they’re touching anyway. “Tell me something about yourself,” Charlie says rolling onto his side. Albert stretches his feet out so that they touch Charlie’s and his heart is pounding up a storm. 

“Something about myself?” Albert parrots, blinking. “We’ve known each other for like ten years. What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie says and Albert can’t help but smile at Charlie, even though it’s not like Charlie can see him in the darkness. “Like, I didn’t know you were afraid of thunderstorms until like twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m not _afraid_ of thunderstorms,” Albert protests, because honestly, it’s the dark he’s afraid of, more. The laugh Charlie lets out gets Albert’s entire body buzzing and he wants to make Charlie laugh like that for the rest of his life. “I just don’t like them.” 

“It’s cute,” Charlie says, and Albert’s heart stops for a second before beating hard once again.

Charlie grabs Albert’s hand, and Albert never wants to let go. There’s nowhere in the word Albert thinks his hand belongs more and he squeezes Charlie’s hand maybe a little bit too hard, but he’s _missed_ this.

“Oh, well, _thank you_ ,” Albert replies, shifting around to free his other hand to flick Charlie in the forehead. Albert loves how _normal_ this feels and he loves Charlie and he just… 

“You’re welcome. I know my compliments mean the world to you,” Charlie says and Albert gives a tiny little nod.

“Yeah,” he replies, because he’s missed having his friend. He’s missed that more than anything else. His mind wanders to how much he loves Charlie, and doesn’t Charlie’s question give him a perfect reason to admit his feelings? Shouldn’t he just come out and say it? 

Something about him: he’s been in love with his best friend — he’s been in love with his best friend for, now that he’s thinking about it, longer than he’s even realized.

“So something about me —” Albert says, holding in a breath before admitting, “I’m a liar.”

“What?” Charlie says and Albert needs to speak fast because it’s not like _that_ but it _is_ like that, because every time Albert’s talked to Charlie and hasn’t told him is just one big snowballed lie.

“I’ve been lying to you,” Albert says and he feels like he’s at the edge of a cliff. He runs his thumb over Charlie’s knuckles for something to focus on other than the beating of his heart. “For years.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asks, his voice small.

“I mean. Not _lying_ ,” Albert says, because he doesn’t want Charlie to think he’s a terrible person. He gives Charlie’s hand a squeeze before rubbing his knuckles again. “But I haven’t been honest about something, and it’s something sort of big.”

“What?” Charlie asks, and Albert thinks he’s going to drown in his love for Charlie. It’s going to kill him, isn’t it?

“I just — I didn’t really know how to tell you,” Albert says. He hates the way his voice cracks and the way his eyes well up with tears almost immediately. He’s said too much to just turn back now.

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” Charlie says quickly and Albert appreciates the out, but he can’t keep on sitting on this and overthinking every interaction he has with his best friend.

“I know,” Albert says, squeezing the life out of Charlie’s hand. It feels like if he lets go then Charlie will leave and Albert can’t let him leave, not now. “But I want to come clean about something.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, and it’s all left to Albert.

“Well,” Albert says, his mouth feeling metallic. “I know this is gonna change everything about our friendship, one way or another, but I —” Albert pauses, trying to think of how to say it properly. Should he just come out and say that he’s in love with Charlie? He doesn’t want to scared Charlie off.

God, he just needs to _say_ it.

And so he does — 

“I like you,” Albert says, that stabbing feeling returning behind his eyes. “A lot. Like as _more_ than a friend.”

There’s silence, and then Charlie says, “Oh.” Albert’s not sure what that means. “Oh,” Charlie repeats and Albert might throw up. It feels like he’s been punched in the gut because Charlie _doesn’t like him_. He can’t believe he thought this could end in anything other than their friendship being ruined.

“I just —” Albert says, wanting to take it all back, to say it was just a joke, that he wanted to pull a prank on Charlie or something. He tries to let go of Charlie’s hand, but Charlie grips his hand, _hard_ , and Albert looks at Charlie’s faint silhouette right in front of him.

“I like you too,” Charlie says, his voice sounding strangled. 

Albert thinks that he didn’t hear right. He didn’t just hear Charlie say that he likes Albert, too. That’s not _possible_. Maybe Charlie’s trying to prank Albert, maybe he’s trying to use Albert laying his heart out in front of him.

“Oh,” Albert says, feeling a little bit lightheaded.

Charlie lets out a laugh, and then he laughs a little bit more, and Albert is half-convinced that Charlie is laughing _at_ him, but then he realizes that Charlie’s laughing at the fact that they’ve been _so dumb_ and he joins in. Albert twists his hands so that their fingers are intertwined, and his heart is beating hard and it’s beating for _Charlie_. 

God. _God_.

Charlie pulls Albert closer so that their chests are pressed against each other and Albert feels like he’s whole again. 

“I feel stupid,” Albert says, because that’s true too.

“Why?” Charlie asks and Albert almost lets out a surprised little laugh...

“I’ve been worried for a _while_ about liking you,” Albert tells Charlie, which is the understatement of his life, but he has time to tell Charlie everything later. He rubs his thumb up and down on Charlie’s hand and admits, “I didn’t want to screw up our friendship.”

“Me too,” Charlie says, so quiet that Albert doubts he would be able to hear him if he wasn’t this close. “That’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and see something that wasn’t there.”

“Never do that again,” Albert says, tears threatening to spill again. His heart is beating for Charlie, but it also gives a little _pang_ when he thinks about how sure he was that Charlie hated him. “Please.” 

Charlie pulls him even closer.

Albert’s not sure who’s holding who by this point, but they’re a mass of limbs and beating hearts on the floor. When they finally get too sweaty like that, they separate and stand up.

“I really want to kiss you,” Albert says, because he’s been absolutely _dying_ for it, especially recently.

“I really want to kiss you, too,” Charlie says. Albert almost leans in and kisses Charlie, right then, but Albert also knows that he’s probably going to miss and kiss the air besides Charlie’s left ear.

“I want to see your face, though,” Albert says, because he needs to get this first kiss right.

“We have some type of candle somewhere,” Charlie says, leading Albert to the kitchen. The darkness is still making Albert’s heart speed up, but Charlie’s holding his hand and he’s okay. Albert almost curses when he bumps into the countertop, but eventually Charlie finds their drawers and pulls them open, shuffling through them blindly. 

Charlie drops Albert’s hand for a second, and Albert has this single moment of panic, but then Charlie is there, a lit birthday candle in his hand.

God, Albert’s missed Charlie so much. _So much_. He’s a little bit pathetic.

Charlie stares up at him and they’re both silent, just taking each other in. How is Albert this lucky? How did he not ruin his friendship? How did he get something so, _so_ much better?

Albert breaks out into a smile, and he feels like he’s about to cry, because apparently he can’t think about Charlie without wanting to burst into tears. The tears that are threatening to spill out, though, are nothing but happy tears.

Albert needs to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and never stop kissing him. 

“Can I —?” Albert asks, his voice soft. Charlie nods, and Albert takes Charlie’s hand in his hands, thinking about how he wants this to be his last first kiss.

Albert leans in and thinks about the fireworks people always describe when they kiss someone they really, really love.

He gets it, now.

…

Albert wakes up with his eyes still closed and he doesn’t want to open them, because he’s afraid that everything was all just one big dream. Maybe he’s still at Race’s, crying over Charlie. Maybe he’s still dating JoJo. Maybe he’s still in high school. Albert has no idea how anything that happened last night could be _real_ and he really doesn’t want his bubble to be burst.

Eventually, though, Albert opens his eyes.

Charlie is there, and Albert could cry with happiness.

…

Albert’s considering quitting his job if it means he could spend his entire life just cuddled up with Charlie, just kissing him and running his hands over his body. He could survive just on kissing Charlie, he thinks.

He didn’t think he could ever be this in love.

… 

“I’m assuming he doesn’t hate you, then?” Race asks, a loose grin at his lips as Albert dumps his stuff in their makeshift office. Albert gives him a little glare and Race’s loose grin turns into a full-blown out one.

“Shut up, Anthony,” Albert says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t last being annoyed very long, though, because he’s _dating Charlie_ and holy crap he’s in love.

“Look at you go,” Race says, putting a hand over his heart. Albert doesn’t even care, because he’s the real winner in this situation — he’s the one that’s dating Charlie. “I’m so proud. From pining to dating.”

“I owe you everything,” Albert says dryly, and Race grins with his whole face before Albert smacks his shoulder.

“I am the expert in pining over your best friend and then dating them,” Race says somberly, nodding slowly like he’s some sort of wise sage. Albert grins.

…

“I love you,” Charlie says and Albert doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing those words come out of Charlie’s — out of his _boyfriend’s!!!!_ — mouth.

“I love you,” Albert replies, because it’s not like he’s going to get tired of saying those words, either. Albert shifts around so that he’s straddling Charlie’s lap. Albert cups Charlie’s neck in his hands and he’s vaguely aware that if they’re going out with their friends tonight, it’ll probably be in a few hours. Albert probably shouldn’t be getting distracted.

Still, Albert leans down and presses his lips to Charlie’s. He’s fine with getting distracted, as long as it’s with Charlie. He’d gladly say screw his friends if it meant he got to mess around with Charlie for the next twelve hours. He’d gladly go _anything_ as long as it meant he could be with Charlie. Which, to be fair, includes going out with their friends, because it’s not like they would go separately or something.

As long as he’s with Charlie. That’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 30, auction 1, write about a secret being revealed (9610 words by gdocs)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna write crutchie and henry being friends again but i got Distracted and wrote this instead so . here you go  
> this is still inspired by [finn's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller) fic, [collision course](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489789/chapters/61833772) and you should really really read that please it's so good

Charlie spends too long staring at his phone without typing. It’s open to a certain chat thread and he can’t stop staring at the last text in it — the last text he just _ignored._ With a little jolt, he realizes that he should probably change the contact name. Letting out a deep exhale, he deletes the word “cute” from the contact name, and it feels like he just closed a chapter of his life.

_Henry: Hey, do you want to hang out sometime?_

_Henry: I really do want to stay friends with you._

The texts are _two years old_ , and Charlie feels awful about them. He should reply. He’s spent so long not replying.

_Me: hey_

_Me: I figured it out_

_Me: sorry I spent so long being a dumbass_

Charlie hesitates, considering writing something more, but instead he clicks his phone off and puts it down. 

“Why did you think that was a good idea?” he breathes out loud, regretting sending it already. It’s not like he can take it back now, though. Maybe he’s still sleeping. Maybe he’ll wake up later and realize he never texted Henry at all.

And with that, he rolls over, throws an arm over Albert, and drifts back to sleep.

…

When Charlie wakes up again, an hour later, there’s a text notification waiting for him.

“What’s wrong?” Albert asks from across their bedroom, as he tugs on his pants.

“Nothing,” Charlie mutters, staring back down at his phone and wondering whether or not to unlock his phone. “Why?”

“You’re staring at your phone, all irritated,” Albert replies. Charlie spares his boyfriend a glance before looking back down at his phone. It shouldn’t be this hard of a decision. “Hey,” Albert says, and Charlie looks up to see him right in front of Charlie’s face. Charlie blinks.

Albert leans in and presses his lips to Charlie’s. Charlie lets himself melt into the kiss for a second, but the thought of Henry is still lingering in the back of his brain.

“What’s wrong?” Albert asks again. He’s too close to press his toes into Charlie’s leg like usual, so he opts to press his fingers into Charlie’s leg. “And don’t say nothing, because I know that’s a lie.”

“Nothing’s _wrong_ ,” Charlie insists, letting out a little sigh. He hesitates for a moment before admitting, “I got a text from Henry and I don’t know if I want to open it or not.”

Albert’s quiet for a moment, but when Charlie looks up at him, he’s just scanning Charlie’s face, looking concerned.

“I could open it if you want?” he offers, his voice quiet. His tone is soft, and it’s something that Charlie thought was rare up until a few months ago. The more time he spends with Albert, the more he’s hearing that soft tone.

So, Charlie hands Albert his phone. 

“It’s 2-4—” Charlie starts looking away from Albert and their carpet instead.

“—2-7, yep,” Albert says, sliding Charlie’s phone open with an audible _click_. Albert’s quiet for a few seconds, and Charlie’s freaking out internally, even though he knows, rationally, there’s no reason for him to be nervous. 

It’s just been so long since he’s texted Henry. He’s more scared that it’s been _too_ long.

“He says, ‘ _I’m not sure exactly what you’ve figured out, but you’d better have a very specific person as your boyfriend right now or else I’m not texting you back again’_ ,” Albert reads. Charlie lets out a little exhale, but it turns into something more like a laugh. Albert lets out a surprised laugh from next to him. “Is he talking about me?” Albert asks quietly.

“I think so,” Charlie replies, taking his phone back from Albert and reading the text with his own eyes. “I’m pretty sure he broke up with me because I was a little bit in love with you.”

“Only a little?” Albert says. When Charlie looks back up at his boyfriend, Albert’s grinning again, dimples forming on his cheeks. Instead of dignifying that with a reply, Charlie opts to stick a finger into the dimple on Albert’s left cheek.

“I’m going to reply with ‘ _I’m dating Albert_ ’ and a smiley face,” Charlie says, looking back down at his phone and typing out the words. “It’d be nice to have him as a friend, you know?”

Albert lets out a little humming sound, like he _doesn’t_ know, and Charlie gives him a half-glance out of the corner of his eye. He knows that Albert hasn’t talked to JoJo since they broke up, but they both have Jack at least.

“You’re okay with this, right?” Charlie asks, leaving his text unsent and putting his phone aside. He pokes Albert’s dimple-less cheek.

“I don’t have control over who you’re friends with,” Albert says, grabbing the hand on his cheek and giving it a squeeze. Charlie frowns and brings up his other hand to brush Albert’s hair back.

“That doesn’t mean you have to like it,” he says. It’s not like he particularly cares that much if he’s friends with Henry. Honestly, being friends with him would be _nice_ , but Charlie just wants to end things on a better note than ghosting him for two years. He cares more about Albert, more than he ever has about Henry.

“I’m being stupid,” Albert says, his eyes fluttering closed a little bit. He leans into Charlie’s hand on his forehead and Charlie has to bite his tongue to stop from making a joke about how Albert’s always being stupid. “It’s just — remembering that you dated people before me just makes me —” Albert lets out an incomprehensible noise and Charlie can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“You dated people before me also,” he points out.

“I don’t like thinking about that either,” Albert says, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s lips. “I’d rather just pretend that you were my first everything,” he says, his lips still on Charlie’s. “It makes things easier. But if you want to be friends with Henry, then _I_ want you to be friends with him. I’ll get over it. I did with Jack.”

Charlie leans back in to kiss Albert again before pulling away and saying, “I’d rather you be happy than be friends with Henry.”

“I’d rather you be happy,” Albert counters, pushing Charlie in the chest so that he falls backward onto their bed. “Text him,” Albert says, getting up and grabbing his shirt from their dresser. “ _Really_.”

Charlie looks back over at his phone.

“Albie?” he says, after sending the text. Albert looks over at him, waiting. “For what it’s worth, I may have dated people before you, but you’re the first person I’ve been in love with.”

Albert grins, and Charlie thinks his heart is beating just for his dimples. 

“You’re the first person I’ve been in love with, too,” Albert says, crossing the room in a few strides to squeeze Charlie’s hand. Charlie squeezes Albert’s hand right back, feeling like there’s nowhere his hand fits more perfectly.

And, once more, he leans back in for another kiss.

.

_Henry: Oh, thank Jesus._

_Henry: It was sort of painful to watch, honestly._

_Herny: Glad you stopped being dumb._

_Henry: Glad that *both of you* stopped being dumb._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also for various challenges, feel free to ignore this)  
> Auction - day 20, auction 2 - first love (1209 words)  
> Bingo - This idea won't shut up until I write it - Write about someone doing something they've wanted to do for a while; Angel's Archives - 10. Lovers [The stand enters the brain of its victim, and manipulates their pain receptors.] - (scenario) character A steps in for character B; Scamander's Case - (emotion) anxious; Lyric Alley - Would be for you to sign and release me; The Forecast Says - 28th. Windy: "Why did you think that was a good idea?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because the picture of jack sitting on charlie's bed like he's staging an intervention was too much for me to not write  
> as always, this is inspired by [finn's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller) fic, [collision course](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489789/chapters/61833772). read all her fics. do it.

Jack is sitting on Charlie’s bed when he gets home from work, his face looking grim and his hands folded in his lap. Charlie’s pretty sure that Jack would’ve texted or called him if there was something terribly wrong, so it’s probably just Jack on his usual bullshit, but he’s not really sure he wants to humor him right now.

In retrospect, he probably should’ve asked Jack for his key once Jack moved out. Charlie brought this upon himself.

“Hello, Charles,” Jack says, his brow furrowed as Charlie properly enters the room. It takes every ounce of Charlie’s self-control to not laugh.

“John,” he replies, just as serious as Jack’s being right now. Jack simply stares at him as he takes off his shoes and puts them in the bottom of his closet.

“Would you like to tell me what’s going on with you and one Albert DaSilva?” Jack says, and honestly, all Charlie can think is _dammit_ because he owes Albert twenty bucks now. They haven’t reached their one year anniversary yet, and Charlie was _sure_ it would take Jack at least a year to realize their relationship. Albert had had more faith in him. At least Charlie isn’t far off at all, but he can’t believe Jack couldn’t wait another two weeks to notice.

“Yeah, like sexually?” Charlie asks, because annoying Jack has been his favorite activity to do since he was seven years old. “Because I didn’t think you wanted to hear about my sex life, but I think it’s healthy to talk about, so if you want to —”

“Not like _that_ ,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. He’s the one that’s over Charlie’s bullshit, now, and that’s exactly the way Charlie likes it. “Are you guys _dating?_ ” Jack asks, and he sounds so surprised about it, like it’s the weirdest thing in the world. 

Charlie marvels over the fact that Jack has spent the last ten years watching his best friend pine over his other friend and he never even noticed. Henry had noticed, and Henry knew Charlie for a year. Charlie wasn’t exactly great at being _subtle_. Jack’s a dumbass, and Charlie wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yeah,” Charlie says, letting out a laugh and joining Jack sitting on the bed. “Have been for almost a year, Jackie.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack asks, _pouting_. This man is a _father_ , and right now he’s sitting on Charlie’s bed and goddamn _pouting_. Charlie tries not to laugh again.

“We didn’t _not_ tell you,” Charlie points out, stretching his legs out and digging his toes into Jack’s leg, thinking of Albert. “It’s not our fault you didn’t notice. We’ve literally kissed in front of you.”

“You didn’t —” Jack cuts himself off, frowning and thinking about it for a second. “It’s not my fault I’m unobservant,” he protests. “I don’t notice a lot of things.”

“I mean, at least you noticed eventually?” Charlie offers, reaching a hand out to pat Jack’s shoulder in mock sympathy.

“I noticed the two of you when we went out with Buttons,” Jack admits, and Charlie’s impressed by how quickly Jack actually realized their relationship. Maybe he has to give his friend more credit sometimes. “And then shit happened and I didn’t really think about it again.”

“That’s fair,” Crutchie says, and he decides to not let Albert know that maybe Jack _did_ realize pretty quickly. It’ll make Albert bigheaded.

With a loud sigh, Jack flops backward onto the back, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he lets out a huge groan. 

“I’m not enough for you,” Jack says, and Charlie decides to let Jack have one minute of being an insufferable idiot. “I never was,” he whines. Charlie blinks and counts to ten in his head. Jack doesn’t say anything more, so Charlie thinks it’s enough time to give Jack a nice big kick.

“Okay,” Charlie replies, and Jack turns his head to grin over at Charlie. 

“No, but really,” Jack says, and Charlie can see all the dramatics drop. “Are you happy?”

Charlie’s heart swells at Jack asking that, because, _God_ , he doesn’t know what he did to get so lucky with best friends, but he’s glad he did whatever.

“I am,” Charlie says, quite genuinely. Jack searches his face, but Charlie knows he’s not going to find anything there. Charlie is happy, one hundred percent. He’s happier than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“Good,” Jack says with a little nod. They’re quiet for a second before Jack disrupts the silence by saying, “I am _such_ a good matchmaker. I should break up with Davey to date more people so they can find love with each other.”

Charlie groans and Jack grins.

.

Later, Charlie hands Albert a twenty-dollar bill and Albert is absolutely _gleeful_.

“Two weeks,” Charlie says, rolling his eyes at Albert’s massive grin.

“Less than a year, Char,” Albert replies, and Charlie lets Albert kiss him anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (for challenges, feel free to ignore)  
> day 25, auction 2, [Dialogue] "I'm not enough for you. I never was." (830 words by gdocs)


End file.
